


The Battle of the Queens

by WIWJ



Series: Of Arms [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU from The Long Night, Dany still goes mad, F/M, Fix It, Future Fic, The Arya/Gendry comes later.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23341189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WIWJ/pseuds/WIWJ
Summary: AU from the Long Night. Some things go differently.If this seems familiar it’s been moved from FF.net with some minor edits.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Series: Of Arms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678636
Comments: 30
Kudos: 188





	1. Chapter 1

Despite what Bran had cryptically teased, there was in fact an after, and Jaime Lannister had lived to see it.  
The battle had ended without fan fair, and the sun had slowly started to rise.

He'd been separated from Pod and Brienne nearly immediately, as jobs had to be doled out and bodies had to be accounted for.

He'd been moved by Tyrion's joy upon seeing him among the living.

"I trust your lady survived the fight?" He asked softly pouring Jaime a drink.

"Of course she did." He snorted. "She's tougher than I."

Tyrion made note that his brother did not seem to argue the distinction that Brienne belonged to him as he grinned into his own ale.

It was a few hours later when he discovered Pod clearing debris just a few feet from him in the crowd.

"Where is Ser Brienne?" He asked with a sigh, his eyes sweeping over the crowd.

"I would hope she's seeing the Maester, but I wouldn't hold my breath on that." Pod told him softly.

"What do you mean? Why would she need a Maester?" Pod blinked at Jaime's sudden urgency.

"Oh, yes, I forgot we'd parted ways before she revealed the wound on her side." He began.

“Where is she?”

“Her quarters I’d assume but Ser Jaime, she assured me it wasn’t-“ Jaime had stopped listening and stomped off in the direction without another word.

…..

He rounded the corner to her chamber without knocking, pushing at the door and finding her there frozen in place and staring at him in an emerald colored robe.

"What's wrong?" She took in the look on his face, moving instinctively towards him.

"What's wrong? Pod said you'd been injured. Why didn't you say something to me?" He demanded, stepping closer.

"It's fine." She balked, moving slowly and painfully towards her bed.

"I'll be the judge of that." He huffed. "Let me see." She gave him an incredulous look, but he nudged her to the bed without acknowledging it. "Lie down."

She gingerly crawled onto the bed and laid on her good side as he undid the tie of the robe and peeled it back from her body. She made an attempt to cover herself and he met her eye.

"I've seen it you know." He lifted his chin in reference to her breast. "Up close and personal. I've nestled my face right up against it in fact."

"That was an emergency." She growled.

"So is this." His voice was low and breathless, and she glanced back to see him wince as his fingers traced the margins of the long gash up her side. It started at the curve of her bottom and wrapped up her side until it came to and end at the base of her sixth rib, just below the swell of her breast. If he noticed the way she trembled when his fingers landed there he didn't show it. "How did this even happen?"

"I have no idea." She sighed. “A lace gave way I think.” 

"You need to see the Maester." He risked.

"No." She said evenly.

"Brienne!"

"There are far more injured far worse." She reminded him. "I'll be fine."

He was already rolling up his sleeves and untying his gold hand, he set it behind him on the table.

"At least let me clean it properly." He sighed, moving back towards the water basin when she offered no protest. She'd left some salve beside the pitcher and he gathered that as well, before huffing at the task before him. "A little help?"

He lifted the jar of ointment tucked into his elbow towards her with a smirk. She rewarded him with a ghost of a smile, removing the lid and dropping it onto the bed. He squeezed the cloth out over the injury, watching the rivers of water mix with the dried blood and bits of tissue there. Again he winced as she seized up with pain, absently running the flat underside of his right forearm against her warm cheek gently. She let her eyes drift shut as he went about cleaning the wound and applying the medication.

Jaime found himself watching his fingers move across her pale curves with interest. He was surprised at how much he’d remembered. Her body was so different from what he was used to, so curvy and delicate. Such a contrast to how she was viewed. Such a contrast to Cersei, who was more angular and taunt. The dips in his sister's body were not as drastic as Brienne's peaks and valleys. They were not as smooth. Jaime rarely wished for his missing fingers anymore, but he found himself wanting to stroke her short locks of matted hair from her face as he worked. It was almost odd how little those feelings surprised him. He patted the area dry and began laying fresh cloth over it.

"I figured I'd die." Brienne's voice was barely a whisper.

"We all figured we'd die." He reminded her.

"Yes." She agreed. "But I figured I would, especially."

"Why would you say that?" He asked his distressed tone making her forehead furrow.

"I've done all I've set out to do." She confessed. He glanced at her heavy eyelids. "Accomplished all my goals. Kept my vows. I figured it was time."

"You have more to do." He told her.

"Do I?" She breathed, her voice sounding far away.

He pulled back and looked at her, taking note of how red her cheeks seemed to be. Jaime laid his forearm against her neck and swallowing hard at the warmth radiating from it. He touched his stump to her head and found it just as bad. He wet another cloth and laid it over her brow. 

When Podrick appeared in the doorway, he stepped towards him with a whisper.

"Get a Maester.'' He raised a serious eyebrow and the young man hurried off. Jaime walked around the bed to the other side, and lowered himself down to face her.

"You do." He told her evenly. "I need you."

"You need me?" Her lips barely moved as she spoke but her eyes still rolled slightly at him as they turned up at the edges.

"Yes." He swallowed hard. "There is nothing stopping the Targaryen Queen from moving South now." Her eyes opened wider into his and she seemed suddenly alert. "I'll need you by my side to remind me that I don’t want to be dragon food."

"Stop." She winced at him like his words were painful.

"Brienne you know I’m helpless without you. They’ll have my head for sure." His attempt at self deprivation sounded desperate even to his own ears. "I’m much safer under your protection."

Her lips parted as if she had something to say, but she pressed them shut again, with a shake of her head.

"You keep me tolerable, honorable even. Seriously look at me I’m fulfilling vows and keeping my word all over the damn place.. You help me understand right from wrong and.. " He snorted. "And I actually choose right."

Her lips twitched into a smile.

"To Cersei, to all of them? I’m still the kingslayer, oath breaker, man with no honor." The sorrow dripped from him. "You know I'm powerless against her. Without you demanding me different, I don't know who I am separate from her."

"You're Jaime." She breathed, her eyes clouding. "Your name is Jaime."

He smiled at her and she tried to smile back, but exhaustion won out and her face went slack as her eyes fluttered shut. He clasped her hand in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing them against it.

"I still need you there to remind me." He told her, his voice weak and fearful.

…..


	2. Chapter 2

Tyrion stood in the doorway of Ser Brienne's chamber, studying his brother. Jaime was tipped back in his chair; eyes closed, his hand laying across his brow, picking at a scab on the bridge of his nose. He was talking to her as if she was listening, his stump swinging through the air for emphasis, his gold hand abandoned on the table.

"You're really missing out on some excellent moral dilemmas." He told the unconscious woman. "At first the air was so thick with the smell of rotting human flesh it was a burden to breathe at all, but then after the dragons charred everything to bits it smelled so succulent you felt your mouth betrayed your humanity when it watered."

Tyrion chuckled, and Jaime's eyes slipped over to his brother.

"They send you after me?" The older Lannister guessed.

"They've sent me to appeal to you to bathe." His younger brother snorted. "How is she?"

"It's been three days." Jaime sighed, his eyes sweeping over the woman in the bed. "She's barely moved."

"The Maester is still optimistic she'll make a full recovery." The Imp reminded him, leaning against the doorway.

"The Maester didn't hear her telling me that she'd expected to die." He whispered, leaning forward, his lame arm laying next to her on the mattress. Tyrion let the silence sweep across them, giving his brother a moment to collect himself. "How's your queen?"

"My queen." His brother heaved a heavy breath. "It seems that the line of succession may have skipped over someone." Jaime's eyebrows arched into his hairline. "Apparently Ned Stark's bastard is really another Aegon Targaryen. Son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen."

Jaime's body burned thick with the news. He leaned forward, his mouth slipping open.

"Rhaegar's son." His voice was rough and gravely.

"Yes." His brother gave him a grave look. "True born."

"Rhaegar’s heir lived?" Something light shook free in Jaime’s chest and floated up his throat. "A son lived?"

"Apparently so."

"It changes everything." Jaime looked out the thin window at the darkness. "As mad as his father was, Rhaegar was quiet and withdrawn, but kind and just." He snorted. "Much like his son." He paused, his mouth agape as he thought of what it meant. "And how has the Mother of Dragons taken the news?" Jaime blinked back at his sibling.

"Well.. she's yet to burn her lover at the steak." He replied, giving a serious look.

"She still might." Jaime warned him in hushed tones. “I have seen her father in her.”

"I have seen honor and goodness in her." Tyrion reminded him. "I still feel I can temper her wrath."

"Tell that to Samewell Tarley." Jaime pointed out, leaning forward slightly. "Last I checked they were our vassel."

"The House Lannister's allegiance seems to be in question these days doesn't it?" Tyrion sighed, slumping into a nearby chair.

"House Lannister." He sniffed. "House Lannister is you and I."

"And our dear sister? Although she's loyal to no one, you've always remained loyal to her."

"Fuck Loyalty." He mumbled, his eyes sliding to the other occupant of the room. Tyrion's eyes widened, but he didn't disagree. Jaime watched him regard Brienne with a quiet reverence.

"She's been good for you." He observed.

"I do believe she's saved me." Tyrion wasn't sure Jaime even knew he'd spoken out loud. 

"Your Lady serves House Stark. I suppose our allegiance should fall in alliance with theirs. Seeing as you are the elder brother and Lady Sansa was my wife."

"Rhaegar hoped I would protect his children." Jamie remembered. "I asked him to take me with him, but he felt needed me in King's Landing to assure that Father would not turn on Ayres, but he still wished for me to protect his children." He looked at Tyrion. "I'd like to do that now."

"Then I guess House Lannister bends the knee to the Dragon King once again." The half man sighed with a nod. "Let's hope his beloved aunt doesn't roast us all alive."

…..

"Anything?" Sansa looked up at her sister as she returned to the room. Arya shook her head. "What if she kills him?"

"She won't." Bran's cryptic tone made Sansa's stomach turn. She hated it.

"How can you be so sure? Can you see the future now too?" She glared at him.

"Stop." Arya folded her hands behind her back. "There will be time for sibling rivalry later. This is about Jon."

"Aegon." Sansa murmured.

"He's still the same man." Her sister whispered kindly. "The same amount of Stark as he has always been. As much Father's son as he has always been. As much our brother as he has always been."

"He was reluctant to be King of the North, and now.." She turned back to Bran. "You're certain she won't kill him?"

He didn't speak and she turned her attention to the other occupant of the room. Sam Tarly took a deep breath.

"Jon's never been one to choose to lead." Samwell told her evenly. "I would assume he'd do little to threaten her, until the people demand it."

"They will." Came a voice from the doorway. The eyes in the room fell upon Tyrion Lannister's diminutive form. "M' Lady." He whispered to Sansa. "I wish to join your council."

"What makes you think you can be trusted to join our council?" Arya stepped in front of her sister, but Sansa's hand on her arm halted her advance.

"I trust him." She said softly, turning towards her brother. Her sister's gaze followed and the two regarded him with interest.

"As do I." The three eyed crow replied.

"The people will demand it." Tyrion repeated. "The Dothraki are gone. The UnSullied in ruin. What is left now is wildings and northerners, and they will all bend the knee to to Jon Snow."

"And you Lord Tyrion? Hand of the Queen?" Sansa asked evenly.

"I've spoken to my brother." He nodded. "He is in love with your Swordswoman, weather he knows it yet or not is debatable, but he is. And seeing as you and I were pledged in marriage it seems only right that House Lannister, or what's left of it anyway, will pledge it's allegiance to the Dragon Wolf."

Sansa's lips curled briefly at the designation, she couldn't help but like the sound.

"You'll abandon your queen?" Arya raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

"I bent the knee to Dany because I believed in her. I believe in Jon. I also thought she was the true heir. He is the true heir." Tyrion glanced around the room before returning his gaze to Sansa. "Apparently my loyalties suddenly are no longer as divided as it seemed."

…

"It's funny how quickly things can change." Jaime mused, adjusting the blankets around Brienne. "You'd have thought I'd learned that by now." He glanced at his stump before smirking at her. "How quickly your destiny can lurch in a direction you'd never imagine. How what you thought you knew was suddenly untrue."

He sat on the bed beside her with a dramatic sigh, Leaning in and whispering in her ear.

"The Lannisters have joined the Starks to put a Hidden Dragon on the Iron Throne. I’m dangerously close to being an ally right now Wench and your missing it. If you'd just wake up." He murmured, his head lulling back and examining the ceiling of the chamber. “Where were we? Casterly Rock.” He starred at her for while, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest before taking a deep breath and blowing it out roughly, a nod beginning to chatter. “I think I’m running out of stories, M’Lady.” 

"Have I ever told you about my grandfather's lions? Literal lions, He kept them in cages-."

"Mmm.." The soft sound was like nothing he'd heard from her before and it startled him. "Jaime?" He slid from the bed, lowering himself into the chair and bending to her eye level. She looked startled for a second. “What-?”  
  
”Shhh... It’s okay.” He traced the edge of her face with her thumb. “Are you in pain? I’ll call a Maester. You’ve had a a fever. We should-."

”Jaime..”

”Do you need some water? Should-?”

"Do shut up." She breathed, taking in the confused look on his face before her's broke into a grin. He pushed out a chuckle before another huff of relief followed as his forehead dropped to hers. She closed her eyes and hummed as his hand came up and brushed her damp locks from her face.

"As you wish M'Lady." He whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

"Seems my brother's annulment is being annulled." Jaime breezed into her bedchamber as if it was his own. He pushed the arms of his tunic up and started tugging at the straps of his hand.

"What?" Brienne's eyes widened and he gave her a haphazard grin before returning to the straps. "That's the last thing I think I would have ever expected you to say."

"I know." He shook his head slowly, before sitting on the edge of the mattress next to her and extending his arm. She pulled the pieces apart with ease before peeling the leather from his skin.

"You're filthy." She scrunched her nose up at him.

"I'm so sorry M'Lady, I've been rebuilding a castle from the ground up while you've been lounging about." He teased, adjusting the pillows behind her.

"Don't make me feel worse than I do!" She moaned.

"You look good." She tilted her head to the left, giving him that look, but he could see the blush rise up her throat. "How do you feel?"

"Guilty." She huffed. "I'm going insane, just sitting here while everyone is working."

"The Maester says a few more days." He told her softly, adjusting the slipping shoulder of her nightclothes.

"The Maester doesn't know who he's dealing with." She huffed.

"No, he does not." Jaime smirked, his voice low as watched the blush spread again. She was unbinding his stump, her gaze examining the pressure wounds there. She still looked tired, and her eyes were far to sunken and dull for him to believe that she felt well enough to be out working.

"You shouldn't be wearing it yet." She chastised, turning his appendage slowly, looking at the broken down skin, pressing her fingers lightly against the swelling.

"I'm not going out there without it." He snorted indigently, she made a face like he was being an idiot, but her eyes never left his arm. "I'd sooner not wear pants."

"Well if it gets infected, they'll have to keep whittling away until you have a whole arm of gold. Bring me a cloth." She ordered.

"Yes Ser." He rose, grasping at the golden monstrosity and flinging it onto the table, before wetting a cloth and returning to his spot on the bed. Brienne went about cleaning the worn patches with careful precision. Jaime swallowed the hiss that rose in his throat, his nursemaid politely pretended not to notice.

"Tell me more about Sansa and your brother." She told him quietly.

"Not much to tell. I haven't even had a chance to talk to Tyrion, but word on the west tower repair crew is that they had a moment in the Crypt and they've asked the Queen to annul the annulment." His stump jerked when she it a particularly raw area and she yanked it back to her lap.

"Hold still." She scolded roughly, but Jamie watched the way the pads of her fingers stroked the perimeter of the wound softly. "Don't you think it's strange though? Lady Sansa and your brother?"

"One would think they're an odd match, but Tyrion is witty and smart. She likes that." He thought back to what Sansa had been through, swallowing hard. "She needs kindness. He can be kind."

"Lots of people can be can be kind." She reminded him absently, her fingertips still examining the skin of his arm. "You can be kind." He closed his hand over hers and she raised her eyes to his.

"Trying to get rid of me?" He gave her a lopsided smirk. She swallowed, her face pinching and her lips pressing together tightly. "What?"

"Why _are_ you still here?" She whispered.

"You're going to have to be more specific." Jamie chuckled dryly.

"Jaime.."

"Why am I still Winterfell? “Here” as in alive? Or why am I still.." He lifted his hand off of hers for a second before returning it. "Here?"

"All of it maybe?"

"You know why." His voice was soft but he pulled his arms from hers anyway, returning the washcloth to the basin.

He dropped into the chair he'd occupied for days waiting for her to wake up, struggling with the laces on his shoes. She watched him push them off and under the bed before returning to the basin to wash his face and hand before starting to wind fresh cloth around his stump. She remained silent as he undid the buttons of his tunic and pulled it over his head, running a new cloth across his chest and under his arms. She watched him dig through his satchel on the floor until he came up with a fresh garment and fought his way into it.

He swallowed hard, moving around the room as if it were his own, putting things away and and making piles of laundry to be dealt with. He picked at a piece of bread she'd left on a tray at the bedside table and took a bite, the whole time his eyes falling on everything but her. Her eyes never left him.

Jaime Lannister took a deep breath and let it rush out of him before sheepishly meeting her eyes.

"You do know why, don't you?" His raspy voice would have gone unheard in any other room, but this one was achingly silent. Brienne blinked at him, her expression unchanging until a loud knock at the door startled them both.

"Ser Brienne?" Jaime's eyes rolled back as his head bobbed to the ceiling before he clumsily reached for his hand, struggling to slip it on with a wince. She gave him an admonishing look, he sneered back at her..

"One second please, Tormund." She called, looking around the room for anything indecent, looking back at Jaime as he gave up on the straps with a huff. He glanced at her quickly, gesturing at the neckline of her bedclothes and she yanked it up accordingly before arranging the blankets as modestly as possible. Jaime rolled his eyes again before swinging the door open and greeting their guest.

"Kingkiller." He growled as the Lannister put on his best game face.

"Tormund. How nice of you to stop by." He said evenly, gesturing him into the room and pointing at the table. "Please, have a seat."

Brienne gave her new guest a brief fleeting smile before moving her legs aside, pointedly making room for Jaime on the end of the bed. He dropped there, his right arm landing beside her, stretching unnaturally long as the unbound prosthetic slipped down his arm.

"The Kingkiller told me that you were feeling better." He growled. "You look like you feel good."

He raised an eyebrow and leered at her. Jaime made a face, moving his body closer to the edge of the bed. Brienne noticed his hand didn't move with the rest of him. She ran her teeth over her lower lip.

"Yes, Tormund." She nodded. "I've nearly healed."

The wildling was unabashedly staring at her unbound breasts at it was all she could do to keep from pulling the warm fur pelt blanket up to her chin. Tormund's advances didn't usually bother her per se, but she didn't relish hosting anyone while she lay helpless and unarmored in her sick bed.

Except for Jaime. He brought her stories of the day and kept her sane with tales about Casterly Rock. Jamie had spent an hour 'instructing' poor Poddrick how best to replace the leather ties on her armor that had given way to allow her injury. It was he who peppered the Maester with questions about the infection in her blood, the depth of each end of the wound; and how to avoid scar tissue that would hinder her movement in battle. It was Jaime who had taken to stroking her hair when she woke up with a start in the dark, still feeling the hands of the undead clawing at her. Jaime had moved into her bedchamber while she lay unconscious and never left, and she found she didn't mind that one bit.

He was currently distracting Tormund with questions. He had also seemed to notice where the Wildling was looking, and instead had him focused now on the craftsmanship of the room. He was pointing at different buttresses and stonework and wondering out loud where they would find the smiths to repair the part of the castle they were assigned to repair it to its former glory.

Jamie was asking him about preferred building materials of the wildlings. He had pivoted so he was nearly a wall himself between Tormund and her bosom.

His heavy gold hand had not, she noticed. It wouldn't follow him when he rose.

"I'm afraid we're boring my commander." Jamie was telling Tormund, the large man glanced at her and she gave him a polite but sleepy smile.

"Join me in the mead hall Kingkiller, we'll finish our discussion." The Wildling looked at him expectantly. She felt him hesitate beside her before giving a quick nod and start to slide to his feet. She grabbed at his arm and held him back.

"Actually Tormund I need to speak with Ser Jamie for a moment. We were in the middle of something." Brienne slid her fingers between the sheath of his hand and his stump and his back straightened. He looked at his hand and then back over his shoulder at her. She was closer than he expected and he stifled a gasp.

Tormund the Wildling was the first one to move.

"Yes. I see that." He sounded more than slightly disappointed. "I should have known as much."

After he'd stomped his way out of the chamber, Brienne dropped her chin, rolled up his tunic sleeve, pushed the prosthetic away and lifted his arm out.

"Thanks for the cover." He whispered, she could feel his breath on her cheek. She lifted her face back up to his and gave him a small smile.

"We were in the middle of something." She reminded him, casting her gaze back downward.

"I have found as of late that is the only place I want to be." He swallowed hard, but she remained still. "I came to Winterfell because I needed to fight beside you. That’s the only reason I lived.” His eyes were damp when she dared glance at them. “When you were hurt..” The lump in his throat caught his voice for a second and he winced. “I wasn’t about to leave you to fight that by yourself either.”

"The fighting is over for now." She reminded him softly.

"Yet here I remain." He breathed, as tears pooled in her eyes. "Do you want me to go?"

Brienne curled her fingers tighter around his limb, her eyes never leaving his as she shook her head.

His left hand fluttered to her jaw and he flicked his eyes from hers to her lips and back again.

"I've never kissed another knight before." He whispered cheekily.

"Not even the sword of the morning?" She asked him, the edges of her mouth twitching upward before she moved her head until their lips were nearly touching.

Jamie Lannister kissed her then, impossibly gently, and Brienne of Tarth let him.


	4. Chapter 4

Jaime Lannister was ushered into the study in the inner keep of Winterfell by a stone face Northern man that he’d never met.

“Well there you are." Tyrion snorted. "Thank you, Medgar. You may go.” The man gave a quick nod and closed the door, Tyrion looked back at Jaime. “I thought maybe you'd left town."

"Look at you, Lording over Winterfell like a true Notherner.” Jaime teased, Tyrion grunted.

“Extra security.” He raised an eyebrow. “My wife demands it.”

”Yes, I hear your marriage has been consummated." Jamie said with distracted interest.

"Not quite yet." Tyrion sighed wistfully. "I'm afraid there hasn't been the time."

"Well I have no idea who you are or what you've done with Tyrion Lannister, but my little brother always made time for that." Jaime raised his eyebrows and the younger man gave him a deadly look over his cup before pouring him one of his own.

"How's your Lady Knight?"

"She's better." Jaime took a long drink, before tapping on the table. “Still healing.” He looked past Tyrion at the wall, trying to gather words.

"Out with it." Tyrion sighed.

"With what?" Jaime pushed the cup back and rubbed his hand against his thigh.

"Whatever you need from me." He waved his arm at him. "You wouldn't be here during your precious rest period if it wasn't important."

"You're my brother, maybe I just want to check in with you? Congratulate you on the resurrection of your marriage, confirm that the Dragon Queen hasn't found out your treason and fried you?"

"None of that would get you away from your Lady Love." Tyrion pointed at him.

"About that." He took a breath.

"Yes? I'm waiting?" He sounded almost impatient but Jaime knew it for what if was. Worry. He was worried he was having regrets. 

"I need to send a Raven." He whispered softly. "I don't know how one goes about doing that at Winterfell."

"Why?" Tyrion's voice was low and almost murderous.

"And I can't very well walk around asking people." He japped, gesturing at his brother. "Because they will all look at me like that. Assuming the worst."

"You'll have to forgive them. They've heard of you."

"Which is why I came to you, I was fairly certain you wouldn't put your little dragonglass dagger in my eye in the first mention of it." He sighed. "I need to send a Raven, to Tarth."

"Tarth." Tyrion slowly lowered the cup of ale to the table and looked at his older brother. "As in Brienne of?"

"As in Lord Selwyn of." He swallowed before taking a quick breath. "I'm asking for his daughter’s hand."

"I don't think it will fit your stump." His brother didn't miss a beat.

"Can you be helpful?" Jaime winced, rubbing his face.

"You're not serious?" Tyrion's shoulders dropped back against the chair. Jaime stared at him."You're serious?"

"You are the one who has been not so subtly rousing me about my apparent feelings for her and now that I've decided to act on-."

"You've acted on them?!" Tyrion yelled. Jaime covered his face with his hands, before his younger brother leaned in quietly whispered. "You've slept with someone other than our sister?"

"No." Jaime scoffed and Tyrion’s heart sank in his chest. He looked away.

“Jaime, you said you want to marry-.”

"She's the maiden of a noble house. The only surviving child of the Lord of Evenfall Hall. And I am. Me.” He shook his head. “Of course I have not slept with her. That is why I need to send the raven."

He punctuated each word of his last sentence with slow steccato, until Tyrion's eye brows rose again into his hairline.

"Ah." His eyebrows arched. 

"Yes. Ah." His sibling countered.

"And if Cersei were to intercept it?" Tyrion blinked at him.

"I've thought of that." He sighed. "I'm sure she's got a dozen sellswords after my head by now anyway."

"Good thing your bride is well versed with a sword." The imp snorted. Jaime glared at him, which only caused him to snort louder before busting into a fit of laughter. His brother followed soon after, despite himself.

"You'll help me?"

"I'll more than help you. I'll send word to our friends in Essos. They can have someone in Tarth in a few days time." He sighed heavily. "You know it's rumored fallen to the Golden."

"She's heard, she feels that her father would yield without incident. He served Robert and he's served Cersei he has no reason to make an enemy of her now." He whispered gravely.

"And marrying his only daughter off to her banished lover? That would help him in his standing?"

"He's raised her to be strong and independent, to make her own choices."

"And she's chosen you?" His brother's voice was high and teasing. Jaime looked down at the table with a self conscious grin. "I'll send someone we trust."

…

"I don't know why you are so nervous. You know I'll marry you, no matter what his answer is." Brienne said softly, knotting her hands in his tunic as the maester kneaded the scarring tissue around the gash in her side. "This is just a show of respect."

He put his hand on her head and rubbed his thumb over her temple as she winced against the other man's touch.

"Still.." Jaime sighed. He lifted his right arm, only to set it down again when he saw his stupid gold rock at the end of it. If the Maester wasn't here, he wouldn't have the damn thing on and he could have run his stump along the bottom edge of the scar and felt the skin there. He didn't like the way it puckered slightly around the curve of her hip. He worried it would keep her from being able to lunge as deep as she had before. "What about there?" He nodded his head and the Maester pressed his thumb into the spot, testing it's elasticity. The woman on the bed hissed, her other hand locking around his wrist. "Shhh…" He soothed. "Take slow breaths."

"You take slow breaths." She growled at him through clenched teeth. "Shit that hurts."

"You'll thank me later when you still have full range of motion." He raised an eyebrow at her. She made a face, but slowed her breathing just the same.

"I think you're capable of some light work." The Maester said. "No heavy lifting, but some walking, mild activity.." The old man looked from Jaime to Brienne and back again. "Relations.."

Jaime's head snapped up in surprise, the old man raised an eyebrow at him. "Nothing too strenuous yet. Keep an eye on her, make sure she's not overdoing it."

"I-." Jaime's mouth hung open.

"Slow deliberate stretching is the best treatment." The man pulled her bed clothes down and the blanket up before nodding to them both. He looked down at her face, her wide sapphire blue eyes bore into his, the flush had crept from her chest to her cheeks now.

She swallowed at the chuckle that escaped his throat. He dropped into the chair beside the bed with a thump.

"I'm pretty sure he meant the scar tissue." Jaime assured her, leaning in and pressing his mouth to her forehead.

"I'm pretty sure he didn't." She scoffed. "Is it ugly?"

"What?" He blinked at her, trying to decide on what she was asking.

"The scar. You always look so concerned when you look at it."

"It's.. long." He exhaled. "You need to be able to twist and still extend your arm. It's just a thick line in most places." She nodded at him, her eyes fluttering past him and looking at the wall. "Since when are you concerned about things like that?"

"Since someones looking." She countered. "I don't like the way you wince when you look at it."

Jaime understood that. He remembered the way Cersei had looked at him when he'd returned. The way she'd sneered at his handless arm.

How he'd wanted her to touch it tenderly, to mourn the loss with him. He glanced at the woman in front of him his lips twitching into a sad smile. _The way Brienne did_.

He ran his hand across the side of her face again, and she let her eyes sink shut. He wondered for a moment when she’d become so comfortable with his touch. Was it just since he’d been caring for her? He had been so accustomed to her touch from the time she’d been his nursemaid. They’d tried to remain formal at times though, hadn’t they? He had been shocked when she’d grabbed him in the Dragon Pit, been so familiar in public; this woman who he’d shared bedrolls and baths with, this woman who had cleaned him and calmed him when fever took him. It had been so easy to do the same for her, without thinking of the propriety; as if she’d always been his. His _what_ he wasn’t so sure, but he knew she had always been his. He met her eyes, before carefully pulling the blanket down and her dressing gown up. Jaime spread his fingers wide and ran his hand carefully up her side.

"It's like a crack in perfect marble." He told her softly.

"Perfect marble." She scoffed.

"You really are quite exquisite." He raised an eyebrow towards her but never removed his gaze from her skin. "So pale and soft. How can you be so strong and still so impossibly soft?"

"Jaime." She whispered his name painfully and he slipped his eyes back to her.

"You don't believe me." He swallowed. "It's alright." He lowered his lips to her ribs and pressed a kiss there. "I intend to spend the rest of my life showing you." She curled her arm back down to him, encircling it cautiously around his shoulder, holding him there against her chest. He pressed his cheek against her bare stomach and he thought it might be the most intimate thing he’d ever done with anyone. He could feel her heart pound against his skin.

"Then perhaps we shouldn't wait for a raven." She told him tentatively, her tongue darting out and wetting her bottom lip. "Seeing as I may need a lot of convincing and there is probably a bounty on your head."

He sniffed a laugh, carefully pressing his lips to the underside of her breast before lifting his head up to look at her. She kept her wide eyes on his and her hand on his arm.

"You're serious?" She didn't recognize his tone.

"I hear it's the best treatment." She raised an eyebrow, gliding her hand over his face.

"I want to marry you." He breathed. "You're not some conquest I take lightly. I know I've made crude jokes before but-."

"Jaime." She silenced him, pressing her thumb to his lips. "We're at war. We are warriors. If we live to see another turn of the seasons it will be a miracle."

"The fact that we're alive right now is a miracle. We fought the army of the dead." He sighed.

"She seems the far greater threat to you." Brienne pressed her lips together.

"She won't bend the knee." He pushed his torso up from the mattress before rising from the chair. She watched as he untied his arm before working his way out of his shirt. Brienne pulled back the blankets, holding them up until he'd settled beside her. She folded her arm over his limb, securing it to her body as he stroked her hair. "She'll die first."

"The baby." She breathed. "We have to at least try for the sake of the baby." He looked at her like he might cry, moving the slightest bit closer to her, his face drawn up in silent question. "It's your child, you've already lost more than is fair. If I'm going to be your wife I'll have to contend with any bastards now won't I?"

"There won’t be anymore.” He swallowed roughly as he slid his finger across her eyebrow. "At least I can swear that to you."

"Don't swear things like that." She swallowed. "It's unnecessary."

"How can you think otherwise?” He raised eyebrows in surprise , and her shoulders slumped a bit.

“I didn’t-. I’m just saying things happen.”

"I spent decades loyal to Cersei." He narrowed his eyes at her. 

“I’m not Cersei.” She shook her head at him. 

“No.” He said quickly, louder than he’d meant to. “No you are not.”

She swallowed her body tensing so minutely if he hadn’t been so close to her he wouldn’t have felt it. 

“You know, I’ve never done _this_.” He scooted closer to punctuate his meaning. “With anyone but you.”

”What are you-?”

”I’ve never just held her.” He gulped, lowering his voice. “We’ve shared a bed maybe twice since we were children. She’s never soothed my nightmares. She’s never pressed cool cloths against my burning skin. She’s never woken up on the freezing ground and thought to tuck the blankets tighter around me.” Brienne's cheeks twitched into a soft smile. “We’ve absolutely not shared a bath since she got tits-.”

His bedmate snorted and Jaime couldn’t help but grin. 

“I’ve lied, killed and maimed for her.” He whispered. “I’ve sacrificed myself. My life. My children...”

“Jaime.” She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and he kissed her forehead. 

“But I’ve never done this.” He sighed. “And if she kills me for it, it will still be worth it.”

”Don’t say that.”

”We are warriors at war, remember? I’m bound to face her someday.”

"If you make it to someday." She teased, her fingers molding themselves around the ball of his shoulder. "I hear the Lannisters can afford the best sellswords."

"Good thing my betrothed is the best swordswoman in the seven kingdoms." He nuzzled her nose with his own and she blushed.

"Who says I'll protect you?" She mumbled, he could feel her breath on his lips.

"You always have." He smiled.

"I guess I have." She swallowed hard before pressing a kiss to his mouth. Jaime sighed out a ghost of a moan, the feel of her mouth on his seemed like it had always been there and had also just begun. 

"You're making it very hard to be honorable." He sighed, knowing she could feel against her hip just how hard. He could feel her hand moving towards his groin and he lifted his right arm up just a little. "Let me do this one thing right." He swallowed his eyes pressing into hers. "I need to prove to you, to everyone, that I mean this. That I'll honor you, as my wife."

"Let's get married." She said softly. "Here. Tomorrow."

"Brienne-."

"And then if we live." She swallowed. "We can do it again. On the Sapphire Island, in front of the old gods and the new. I'll let my father take me down the aisle and I will look like the Mountain in some horrid dress of lace and silk and I will pledge myself to you in front of anyone who is still alive."

"You'll look like a goddess." He swallowed. "A we'll have blonde goddess warrior children that ironically would have made my terrible father incredibly happy. You'll teach them how to fight and I'll teach them how to survive. And they'll have dwarfed cousins from the North that will come up to their knees; that will ride South in the summer and they'll swim in the sapphire colored water and fall asleep under the stars. They'll be honorable. The Lannisters will have finally repaid all their debts."

"Well we have to live now." She whispered, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. "That sounds too nice not to live it."

"It does." His voice was soft and dreamy and it made her smile.

"That settles it then. We'll marry tomorrow."

"You're serious? You're sure?" He tried to pull back to look at her but she pressed further into his body, her lips pressing against his collarbone.

"I am."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion teaches Sansa about a woman’s pleasure. 
> 
> .....

Chapter 5

"I just wish you'd be more patient with yourself." Tyrion's voice was soft and Sansa closed her eyes.

"I think you're being patient enough for both of us." She sighed, lacing her fingers with his again.

"I told you from the very beginning that I wouldn't touch you until you wanted me to." He brought their hands to his lips and kissed hers softly. "And I meant it."

"I do want you to." She whispered, clenching her eyes shut tighter. "I just.."

"Sansa." He called her calmly. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." She sniffed.

"Open your eyes." He pleaded, and she managed to calm herself enough to oblige. "I know I'm not much to look at but it might help if you do." Her lips twitched at him and she nearly smiled. He smiled back at her before taking his hand and carefully from hers and moving it down her body. He felt the muscles of her abdomen clench and he stopped there, slowly stroking his thumb across her nightclothes in sloppy circles until she relaxed. "It's just me." He unbuttoned a button and slid a thick finger between the two sides. "So Jamie came to see me today." He looked back up at her. "He wants me to send a Raven. To Tarth." Sansa's eyebrow rose and fell as she looked at her once again husband. "I know."

"He's finally ready to admit he's in love with her?"

"Well, he's ready to admit he can't live without her." Tyrion let his fingertips slide above and below the waistband of her panties with little emphasis, as if he was just fiddling with it. "Love is a complicated thing for my brother. The version of love he's been sold his whole life is a type of poison."

"You're too kind to him. He's had choices." Sansa sighed, her eyes blinking heavily. "We've all had choices."

Tyrion paused his stroking until her hand reached out and slid against his cheek, fingers scratching lightly at his beard.

"Don't stop." She breathed. He nodded, resuming his caress.

"Whatever you want." He pressed his lips to the spot his fingers had been and kissed her softly there.

"I'm glad you're here." She sighed, her hand moving from his cheek past his ear and into his hair before she settled it on his upper arm.

She'd taken to saying that lately. Tyrion thought that was as good as a declaration of love as he could hope for.

He pushed at the the edge of her small clothes with his nose and Sansa made a quick noise. Before he could pull back her hand pressed at the back of his head, keeping him in place. He could feel the slightest raise in her hips before he carefully moved another finger to the waistband and tugged it down a bit more. Her body heaved as she closed her eyes again, he watched as she hooked her thumbs around the cloth, pushing it away as she pulled one long slim leg out. Tyrion brought his eyes to hers, holding his gaze calm and soft despite the hypnotizing rise and fall of her bosom. 

“Show me.” She said softly, his mouth slipped open. “I.. What I feel.. when you..” She pressed her lips together. “Want. There is no other way to describe it.” The sides of his mouth moved ever so slightly upward, tears pooled his brides eyes. “I don’t know what it is that I want.” She reached her hand out and slid a painted nail down his cheek. “Show me.” 

Tyrion needed no further instruction as he brushed ever light strokes against the soft skin above her mound, before he reached his other hand up and laced his fingers tightly around her wrist. 

“If you need me to stop.” He reminded her, his breath warm against her cunt as he carefully spread her apart with his thumb and forefinger. “Say so.”

Her fingers pressed back and he lowered his face between her thighs, and slid his tongue upward. She cried out and laid his head against her inner thigh, sighing in what could have been relief when her hips bucked up unconsciously towards him.

“Just say so.” He repeated before repeating the action with more pressure, carefully and slowly moving his mouth against her until she was writhing, her gaspy cries sending his own desire straight to his cock. Her hand yanked free and came to rest on the back of his head.

“Tyrion.” She whispered, her voice harsh and breathless.

“Still me.” He murmured, listening to her whimper as he closed his lips around her sex and sucked it forward into her mouth, his tongue following in quick even strokes until her body tensed with a guttural sound. He felt her palms flatten as her fingers stretched out with the rest of her body as tight as a bow. He changed his pace just enough until he felt her body cascade and break with a rush and shudder. He lifted his eyes to look at her and she stared back at him with wide eyes, her pupils blown. 

“Was that-?” She heaved, her shoulders trembling. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her. “Did i-?”

”A woman’s pleasure.” He told her softly. 

“You didn’t even..” She looked down again. 

“I thought maybe we’d start here.” He said somewhat sheepishly before pushing himself up on his arms and leaning towards her, pressing his mouth to her clavicle. 

“That was the start?” She squeaked, shifting towards him. His breath caught in his throat and he shifted his hips away from her, his teeth coming down on his lower lip. She looked confused for a moment before her eyes widened again. She rose slightly, pressing him onto his back. His hand had gone to his crotch with the move and she followed it with her eyes. She swallowed at the the bulge beneath his pants before raising her eyes to his again. “Can I see it?” 

Tyrion blinked at her, his face paling. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry at her sudden wonder. He swallowed again, still tasting her on his tongue. With a quick chuckle he looked at her and nodded. 

“I hope it meets your expectations my Lady.” He grinned crookedly at her, as he pulled her hand to the button of his pants and let her undo it before pulling his pants and undergarments to his knees. He watched her face, the sharp intake of breath made her look as young as she’d been the day they wed. Her hand twitched as if she wanted to touch him and he had to press down the groan that threatened. He reached carefully for her hand and brought it down to his member, grunting at the contact as her grip unintentionally tightened. 

“Did I hurt you?” She whispered.

”No.” He chuckled again, his voice stained. “No you did not.”

He could feel the way he pulsed under her touch.

“Show me.” She said again, turning her eyes up to him again. Tyrion nodded once, bringing their joined hands to his mouth and licking her palm before retuning it to his cock and moving her covered hand up and down his shaft. Her face alternated between the site of him in her grip and the look of bewildered agony on his face as his hips bucked towards her motions until she took over the movements. Her free hand sprawled out against his bare chest and he pressed his hand to hers and moaned. Her eyes widened and she twisted her hips. “Tyrion.” She panted, looking at him with a look he couldn’t describe.

”Sansa?” He groaned her name out.

“I want again.” She panted, moving her hand away and pulling her shift over her head in one swift motion. He blinked at her before following her body with his own, kicking his half lowered pants from his legs. 

“You’re sure?” He said breathlessly, clambering on top of her. 

“Tyrion.” She repeated impatiently. 

“Tell me if you need to-.” She pressed her hips up and his sentence faltered as he bit back a yell as her moist center brushed against him. 

“Show me.” She demanded. 

So he did.

…

"Good Morning." Tyrion Lannister had not expected his brother outside of his bridal sweet the next morning, but that's who he saw.

"Good Morning." He made a face at him.

"Please at least take someone with you." Sansa huffed, breezing into the room. "Oh! Ser Jamie, I didn't see you there."

"M'Lady." Jamie gave a bit of a bow before looking back at his brother. "Oh.. and I hear congratulations are in order."

Sansa's face went sheet white for a moment before her lips pressed together tightly to keep from laughing. Tyrion snorted back a chuckle.

"On your…" He looked from his brother to his wife. "Reconciliation."

"Thank you, Ser Jamie." Sansa's lips twitched in an attempt to hold herself together.

"Is this about the raven?" Tyrion asked bluntly. "I know you're… eager, but it does take some-."

"It's not about the raven." He shook his head. "I actually came to speak to my good sister." He looked at Sansa.

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that." Tyrion scoffed. "You don't have the best track record with sisters."

"You'll be late for your meeting, My Lord." Sansa reminded him, the left side of her face rising in a smirk. "You shouldn't keep your queen waiting."

"You've been summoned to the queen?" Jamie looked as concerned as Sansa.

"I am her Hand." He rolled his eyes slightly.

"Your wife is right, take someone. Just in case."

"Fine." Tyrion sighed heavily. "I will take someone, you two mother hens."

Sansa dropped towards the floor and met his eyes.

"Thank you, Husband." She told him, her eyebrows arching into a v above her beautiful eyes. He couldn't help but smile at her, and she pressed her lips to his before straightening up again.

He only looked momentarily stunned before giving his brother a quick nod.

"You wanted to speak with me, Brother?" She quirked her mouth up with the title and he had the good sense to look bashful.

"It's about Ser Brienne, Dear Sister."

"Tyrion tells me you plan to wed?" Sansa gestured for him to follow her into the setting room of her chambers.

"I'm sure you were surprised." He folded his hands neatly behind his back.

"Not really." Sansa smiled. "I was in King's Landing when you returned. I may have still been a child, but I knew what love looked like."

"Then you knew before I." He had the good sense to look embarrassed.

"Tyrion seemed to think that love is a complicated thing for you." She gestured for him to sit before seating herself at the table.

"That's one way of putting it, My Lady." Jamie swallowed.

"He says the love you received was the poisonous kind." She blinked. "From your father, your sister." Jamie looked down at his feet. He didn't want to think of Cersei's kind of love. "A possessive kind of cruel love that only serves the person in control of it." She looked at Jamie for a second, something vulnerable breaking through her toughness. "I know that kind of love." She swallowed. "I knew it from your son. Among others."

"I am sorry for what happened to you." Jamie breathed. "All of the things that have happened to you."

"As am I." She breathed softly. "Do you know you love her now?"

"I think so." He smiled sadly. "I know how that must sound to you, my uncertainty."

"It sounds honest." She answered back. "My mother used to say love was built slowly, over years, stone by stone." She swallowed hard, her eyes moving to the door Tyrion had just exited. "I find myself understanding that more and more."

"I can tell you I know I need her. That thinking of living my life without her fills me with a fear unlike anything I've ever know before." He sniffed. "The fact that I can even say that is because of her."

"Sounds like love to me." Sansa told him.

"I came to ask you if it would be possible for us to use your Sept, to marry. Today." He nodded at her widening eyes.

'You aren't going to wait?" Her wide eyes blinked at him.

"My bride reminds me that we're warriors in a war, and we can't put things off or we risk never getting to them."

"Your bride is a wise woman." Sansa grinned as well. "I will be happy to call her my sister."

"I know that will mean a lot to her."

"I'll have a team clean my mother's sept as soon as possible. It was the first thing I had repaired when we reclaimed Winterfell. As soon as we'd unfurled the banners, in honor of my mother. I don't think I've gotten it quite right, but Arya disagrees. The windows are beautiful at sunset. Can you wait until then, Ser Jamie?" She blinked at him and he couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face.

"I'll do my best, Sister."

"The irony of it." She smiled. "My good brother, Jamie Lannister marrying in my mother's sept." She swallowed. "And my being pleased beyond measure."

"It humbles me, My Lady." He lowered his head. "I want you to know that."

"We've each come a long way, My Lord."

….


	6. Chapter 6

“This is all really not necessary." Brienne held perfectly still as Sansa and her ladies circled around her.

"It is necessary." Sansa smiled.

"You're doing this for Ser Jamie." One of the women, who's name she was constantly screwing up, giggled. "You want to look good for him, don't you?"

"Why?" Her eyes darted from side to side. "He knows what I look like and he wants to marry me anyway."

"Stop it." Sansa tilted her head. "We're not doing this for Jamie Lannister. We are doing this for you. Every woman should look her most beautiful on her wedding day."

"I can't even imagine what that would look like." Brienne muttered under her breath, wiggling slightly where she stood.

"Hold still!" The seamstress chastised. Sansa winced.

"She'd poke you if you weren't wearing white." The Lady of Winterfell told her, an eyebrow raising slightly. "She's only being careful because she doesn't want to get blood on the dress."

"At least not yet." Another girl giggled, Sansa's eyes rolled dramatically, and Brienne bit her lip.

"On that note." Arya huffed before crossing the room, returning with a tea set. "Moon tea all around?"

Brienne's eyes widened, but she nodded just the same. Arya poured a cup and reached it out to her sister. Sansa paused for a moment before her head tilted and a surprised smile came to her face.

"Actually, I think I'll pass." She said evenly. Her younger sister's face went blank.

"Seriously?" She whispered breathlessly. Sansa's bit her bottom lip, before shrugging at her. Arya's face widened into a smile nodding at her before turning toward the future Lady Lannister. "You planning on having babies too?"

"Not yet for, Gods' sake." Brienne sighed, waving the cup towards her.

"Hold still!" The seamstress yelled again. Ayra handed her a cup before grasping one of her own, giving her a mock solute before swallowing it down. Brienne followed suit with a wince.

"There. Have a look M'Lady."

Sansa turned as the seamstress shook the fabric out around her swordswoman, her mouth making a soft 'o' shape as she did.

"I look like the Mountain with a dress on don't I?" The taller woman breathed.

"You look amazing." Sansa answered.

"She'll freeze." Arya chided weakly, her eyes sliding up the long expanse of visible leg.

"It's warm in the sept." Sansa huffed at her. "She'll have a cloak. She looks amazing."

"You really do." Arya agreed, looking up at the other woman. "Your legs are the length of my entire body.”

The older Stark girl reached out her hands and pulled the woman towards the nearby chair.

"Sit." She gestured. "Janna help me." She pulled a silver box from the dresser and opened it. "We'll run out of time. Arya channel the lessons Mother taught you. Get the brushes."

Her little sister heaved a sigh before doing as she was told. Brienne sat statue still, her large eyes sweeping from side to side as Sansa pressed her face with powders and creams while Ayra begrudgingly twisted and pinned pieces of hair with jewels and flowers.

"Ready?" The Lady of Winterfell looked at her, eyes sparkling. 

Brienne blinked at the Stark girls. 

“I don’t believe this is the future your mother saw when she sent Jaime and I off to retrieve you.” 

Sansa's strong sense of duty and honor was betrayed only by the sparkle in her eyes of a little girl who once loved weddings and romance. Her sister was a girl who knew her way around a world she wasn't meant for, but would miss just the same. Brienne knew she was somewhere in between the two. She nodded, standing slowly as Sansa turned her toward the mirror.

Her mouth slipped open. She didn’t recognize the womanly shape in the glass. She didn’t recognize the pale pink lips, or the defined cheekbones that drifted into her hair. She didn’t recognize the soft locks that framed her face. 

"Don't cry." Ayra breathed. "Not until he sees you. It will smudge your makeup."

"Well, Sisters." Sansa took her and Arya's hands in each of hers. "Let's go to the sept then, shall we?"

….

"Are you ready?" Tyrion looked at his brother, Jamie nodded quickly. "Are you sure?" His brother lowered himself into his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. "Because you look like you're going to vomit."

"What am I doing?" He breathed heavily.

"Getting married." He blinked. "In Winterfell; in a sept smaller than an outhouse; in a damned hurry because your future wife can't wait any longer to bone you."

"I'm a complete idiot." He rubbed his face again. Tyrion had shaved his brother's beard that morning. Despite the fact that they were in the North, in the Winter. Despite the fact that Tyrion warned his southern born brother that he and his southern born bride may actually freeze to death up here, he wanted to look nice. Noble. "I'm taking this Noble born, last of her line, most pure of all the Knights of the Seven kingdoms and binding her to me. The honor-less, one handed, sister fucking, king slayer." Tyrion winced. "Who the hell do I think I am?"

"You really have changed haven't you?" The half-man whispered airily.

"What?" Jamie whispered softly.

"Come on." Tyrion rolled his eyes, reaching out and grabbing his brother's hand. He started for the door before looking back at a dumbfounded Jamie. "Get the cloak. Come on."

"Did you not just hear what I said?"

"You jumped one handed into a fucking bear pit for her. You gave her your twin sword, Valyrian steel! You armored her. You rode a bloody horse all the way north to fucking Winterfell when everyone here wanted your head on a stick, to fight the dead at her side. You knighted her. You fought beside her. You sat vigil at her bedside for days. Damn it Jamie you refused to even bed her until you wed. You sent a raven to her father."

If Tyrion Lannister had been as tall as his brother he would have smacked him, instead he yanked his arm.

"She has brought out nothing but your honor, and as far as I can see she's given up none of her own." He almost yelled. "Don't fuck this up!" Jamie looked down at him before sobering with a nod. "Now get the damn cloak."

Jamie nodded quickly before following his brother down to the sept.

Podrick met them at the door with a grin.

Tyrion watched his brother keenly, catching his wife's eye as she slipped into the room and to his side.

"He's freaking out." He whispered to her.

"Oh Gods." Her hand flew to her mouth as she looked around the room as if they might smite her. He chuckled a little before gesturing to Jamie. He absently brought his right arm up to rub his mouth again, stopping as he felt the cold metal connect with his fresh face. He stared at it like it was foreign to him. Tyrion winced. "Oh Gods." Sansa repeated unabashed this time.

"What's wrong?" Arya whispered from behind her.

"He's cracking up." Tyrion muttered. Jon and Dany had taken their spots in the small space and Podrick had gone to retrieve Brienne when suddenly Jamie turned to his brother.

"Help me take it off." He murmured, extending his hand to him.

"What?" His nose wrinkled.

"Help me take the damn thing off." He grumbled in an attempt to stay quiet as he fidgeted, panicked at his cufflinks. It was Sansa who stepped forward from behind her husband, a blank look of understanding on her pale face. 

“It’s alright. I’ll help.” She whispered as she rolled up his sleeve. 

"Thank you." He breathed at her. "Please, just get the damn thing off."

"How do I?" She asked suddenly, glancing back towards the door.

"Just loosen the straps and pull." Tyrion instructed, attempting to shake off his puzzlement as he stepped up to show her. His brother pulled, and Sansa looked at the wrapped limb before quickly unrolling the wrap and passing it to Tyrion who unceremoniously shoved it in his pocket. Sansa deftly folded up the sleeve until his limb sat right at the cuff. Jamie swallowed hard, wiping his damp eyes.

"Thank you, good sister." He repeated kissing her cheek as she slipped back beside her husband.

"What just happened?" Tyrion asked her in confusion.

"Some scars aren't meant to be hidden." She told him honestly clutching their joined hands to her breast. Tyrion would look back later and realize he had decided to love her then, to really truly love her. But in that moment however, all eyes drifted to the entrance of the small sept.

…

Jaime was pretty sure he stopped breathing when he caught sight of her. He didn't hear the guests gasp, or the staggered tears of Tormund the Giantsbane. He didn't hear anything except his own heartbeat as she met him at the altar. Her eyes flipped from his face to his arms as he reached for her. Her left hand carefully reaching out and taking his right arm in hers. He watched her take a sharp breath, and give him a watery smile. Her thumb caressing the blunt end of his extremity. Tears slipped down his face when he blinked and she smiled her most radiant smile at him with pink painted lips.

He wouldn't remember the words spoken if his whole life had depended on it. 

They'd already made their vow, it occurred to him suddenly; in a bathhouse in Harrenhal, in a red tent in River Run, in the great hall of Winterfell and on the battlefield against the dead.

Jaime Lannister had never felt bonded by anything more strongly.


	7. Chapter 7

“Tormund is looking at me like he wants to fillet me and gnaw on my dried bones." Jaime whispered in her ear. She laughed back and he held her eyes as he grinned into his chalice. "He's very scary."

"I'll protect you." She told him.

"Where would you even sheath a sword in that?" He gestured to her dress, before seeming to get momentarily lost in her form.

"I can think of someplace." She hummed, the Dornish Red making her bold. His eyebrows hit his hairline as he stared at her. "Do you think we've been here long enough?"

"Probably not." He told her as she leaned in just a little. He took the hint pressing his mouth to hers and pulling away with a whimper.

"You look gorgeous." He told her. "Slightly defenseless, but gorgeous."

"I can promise you, My Lord Husband, I've never been described as either." Her voice was low, and smelled of wine, her hand moving further up his thigh with each sip. He turned towards his younger brother opening his mouth to ask the question.

"A few toasts a few dances and then no one will notice if you leave." Tyrion told him bluntly, without even hearing the question.

"Thank you." Brienne said over his shoulder, her blue eyes dancing in the candle light.

The Imp tipped his cup to her before commencing with the toast.

…..

"You must be freezing." Jaime noted as they moved back towards their room. He pulled the cloak tighter around her.

"Not after all the wine." She breathed. He twisted her body and pinned her against the door with his, knowing full well she could free herself. "Is this where you overpower me, fling me down and tear off my clothes?" He rolled his eyes up just a little before, pressing his lips to hers.

"I would like to think I've changed since then." He whispered in her ear.

"I suppose you have." He pressed his lips to her throat and her eyes fluttered. "Can we go inside now?"

He sniffed, moving his hand to the door handle and letting it slip open and pulling her inside. He moved a fallen twist of jeweled hair from her forehead and gave her a soft smile.

"I haven’t told you how proud I was of you." She swallowed, wrapping her wrist around his right arm before closing her other hand over the top. "I know how hard that was for you to do."

"It's.. " He took a step back towards the bed and looked at her. "I needed to show you.” He sighed. “Maybe not you. Maybe, I needed to show myself." He huffed out a laugh and she brought one of her hands to his face. "That I'm leaving it behind. All of it."

His new wife looked at him intently, her other hand slipping out from under his stump and sliding onto the other cheek.

"You don't have to, you know." Her voice was hoarse and he watched the tears from in her eyes with interest. "You don't have to leave him behind. I married him too."

"Could have told me that before I stood in front of Winterfell with my stump hanging out." He teased uneasily.

"You're a good man." She told him softly.

"Because of you." He told her softly. "If I'm a good man, it's because of you."

"No." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You w-" He turned his face then, sealing his mouth over hers with hungry kisses, feeling her body tense with surprise until her hand melted back into his hair and clasped him to her. He pulled at the tie at the nape of her neck and the dress slipped off her shoulders and pooled at her feet. He dropped his head and kissed her softly between her breasts. ''Jaime.."

"There are approximately 40 hooks on this tunic and Pod did every last one of them." He chuckled at her helplessly. She pulled back slightly, her hand grazing his chest.

Jaime grasped her hips with his fingers and forearm, meeting her eyes before he slid her small clothes down until they slipped away as effortlessly as the dress had. 

She took a staggered breath before pulling his shirt from his pants, her thumbs hooking at the waistband reverently brushing lightly on the skin beneath. His throat bobbed at the tenderness. 

Her tenderness, his warrior bride. The irony that she was the only one who’d ever been gentle with him. The only one to treat him as if he was worthy of real kindness. 

Jaime pressed his face into the junction of her neck pressing his eyes shut, tightly before bringing his hand between them and finding one of hers. He slid their joined fingers to the ties of his britches. Her long slim fingers pulled at the knots until the loosened, falling open off his hips. He stilled as the backs of her nails tentatively brushed against his straining cock, inhaling sharply. He felt her palm contract as she snatched it back in-. Well he wasn’t quite sure, as he lifted his face back up to hers and caught her withdrawing wrist, tracing his thumb against it in soft strokes. 

He watched the sudden rush of confidence leave her, it shocked him how fragile she looked before him, her pale skin glowing in the fire light. His lips parted slowly as he watched her chest heave with wild breath.

"It’s alright." He whispered softly to her, pulling her hand up to the hooks before slipping his right arm under her left and nudging it up as well. "It’s alright." Jaime repeated , skimming her hip with his lame arm as she fumbled with the small latches.

“We can go slowly.” He brushed her face again, before letting his hand ghost her shoulders before sliding down her back to her hips as she worked the shirt open, one fasten at a time. “We have all night.” 

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d made love slowly. He didn’t know if there had been one.

He and Cersei had been a lot of things. Rushed. Hurried. Frenzied. Carnally, rutting beneath the folds of silk and crimson fabric, her back to his front. 

Jaime tried to force the sudden memories of Joffery’s vigil, of the broken tower, from his mind. He exhaled heavily and pressed his forehead into Brienne’s chest as she finished with his shirt and let it run down his arms. Her palms followed soothingly, slowly. Tenderness.

He lifted his face back up and met her eyes. She blinked at him curiously and he watched the understanding push into the brilliant blue. She swallowed hard as she peeled the undershirt from his torso and pressed closer. His own insecurities melting into hers as he walked her back a few steps to the bed they’d shared for weeks now. Her knees hit the edge and she sat, watching quietly as he moved his last remaining stitches of clothes to stand before her. 

“Like what you see?” He said in an attempt to sound cocky, but as her fingertips traced across his chest and onto his abdomen it came out sounding almost pleading. His hips jerked upwards on their own accord and her hands tightened at his hips. 

“Not like I haven’t seen it before.” She said mildly, as if he were showing her a familiar painting, but her pinking cheeks and trembling chin betrayed her air of nonchalance. 

“Not like this.” He purred, her gentle familiar ribbing planting him back on solid ground, his former lover vanishing back to the dark space of his mind. Bless this woman, this beautiful, insufferable woman. “Not in all its glory.”

“Is it glorious, Ser?” She raised an eyebrow and his chest caught in a half laugh at this newfound boldness in her as he feigned insult. “I’ll have to take your word for it I guess?”

He moved forward, urging her back on the bed and she made to accommodate him. 

“I could show you?” He offered, nuzzling at her chin with the side of his face until he was sucking at her throat. Her little gasps urging him on as he settled propped beside her on his right elbow. “If it pleases you, My Lady?”

“Very well.” She sighed breathily as he ran his hand down the expanse of creamy pale skin before him with his five remaining fingers before grasping the back of her thigh and pulling slowly over his hip to open her to him. She made an unfamiliar mewling sound as he caught her nipple on the edge of his tongue and sucked it into his mouth and the lips around her teat slid into a grin. He wanted to hear that again, and again and again. He worked his thumb between them, gently running it between the folds of her apex experimentally. 

His eyes sunk shut at the damp warmth he found there. He basked in the security of feeling her wanton before drawing his hand up to the small oval above. She squeaked, her body tilting forward to meet him as he kissed against her other breast. 

Her hands found their way to his head, and her fingers carded against his scalp as she writhed below him.

"Jamie.." Her breathless whisper of his name crashed against him like a wave. He pressed his forehead against her belly feeling the tension coiling there against his skin. “I can’t-. I-. Please!” 

Her frantic voice made him chuckle despite himself, as he realized she had no idea what she could or couldn’t, or what she was pleading for. In a quick move he curled in on himself and brought his mouth to the spot where his hand had been and she gasped in response. 

His newly freed fingers slid along her opening as her pelvis thrust up to meet them. He slipped in one testingly, then another, his fingers surging along with his steady laps. Her thighs trembled against him, so eager, so wanton. 

“Please. Please.” She whispered, the hands in his hair more insistent, more uncoordinated with each passing moment. He could feel her start to clench against him, withdrawing his fingers and freeing her clit from his lips as he rose to look at her flushed face and now midnight blue eyes. 

She whimpered as her hips followed his retreat only for her to realize his intent as he positioned himself at her center. A long arm slid down his body and gripped at his ass as he pressed himself forward and into her. 

She gasped, startled at the new sensation and he held her eyes with his, moving his thumb back in place and resuming her pleasure in firm circles. Her eyes rolled back slightly and he leaned forward, resting his head on her chest as he began to move. He let her guide his speed with her palm and her cantering hips as her other hand wrapped around the nape of his neck. 

When she came for the first time, with her body going so suddenly ridged, then slack, Jaime was sure the bed had moved. He rolled her fully onto her back, increasing the depth of his strokes as she clenched and pulsed around him. 

When he found his release her palms had come up to cup his face, her thumbs caressing as he dropped forward, his strong arm shaking with the weight of him. She bucked their bodies sideways and he pulled her to him tightly, fighting to steady his breathing. 

When he finally opened his eyes again she’s blinking at him. Jaime leaned in and pressed his forehead back against to hers. 

“Well? Was it worth the wait?” 

“I’m not sure why we waited.” She whispers back softly. “When we could have been doing that all along.” 

He chuckled at her, pulling back to smile at her, moving his hand along the side of her face, brushing back wayward hairs. 

“Might have taken us a little longer to get back to King’s Landing.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled.

“Maybe you’d have been less annoying if I’d kept you busy.” She teased. 

“Or more annoying. Spending my days trying to get you to one inn or another.” He shrugged. “We may have never made it back at all. Sounds nice, never having been separated.”

“We’re here now.” She breathed, her face pressing into his throat.

“We are.” He sighed, his fingers stroking the nape of her neck as she started to drift off. “We are.”

  
  
  
  


  
  



	8. Chapter 8

It's after they learn of the battle plan that the nightmares start.

He dreamt he's in the dragon crypt, the walls around him tumbling in as he tries to save Cersei from the mess she's created. Dream Jaime hugged her to him and whispered sweet words as his hand snakes up her back until it's firmly around her neck. He paralleled his gold appendage against his flesh one and pressed them as closely together as he could, with his twin sisters throat in the way. He held her close so he can't see her face, still whispering encouragement and comfort as he killed her.

He woke up with a gasp and finds himself beside his wife, her hands clasping his cheeks.

"It's alright." She told him calmly. "It's all right."

He took little gulps of breaths swallowing down sobs with each one. She kissed his forehead and he wiggled closer until he's at her breast like a little boy.

"You're alright." She tossed her leg over his hip and clutched until there is no space between them. "It's alright."

"What if she can be stopped?” He ground out.

"She can't be." She assured him. She'd been angry at the plan. She'd tried to counter. She'd spoken to Sansa she'd spoken to Tyrion. She'd made an emotional appeal for the child, Jaime's child.

If either of them had been swayed enough to take it to Jon she wasn't sure, but the plan had not changed.

"What if I can stop her?" He lifted his head and met her eyes and she suddenly understood what he was saying. She tried to stop it from happening but he felt her body bristle just the same. He winced and she could feel the air between them where she'd moved her body slightly from his.

He didn't look away and her thumbs had not stopped brushing against his damp face, but the air felt like a betrayal, just which one of them it betrayed however, was unclear. 

"I should put another log on the-." He closed his eyes tightly as he pulled her back and pressed his lips to hers. "Jaime-."

"Don't you dare." He choked out, drawing her tightly to his body with his lame appendage. "Don't." She groaned out what could have been the beginning of a sob and he winced again, pressing his kiss into her with everything that he couldn't say but needed her to know. "I'm sorry." He told her. "Don't you dare leave this bed."

"Jaime." Her tone was frustrated, but her hands have weaved into his hair now.

"Our first fight will not be about her." He begged her. "I can be about anything else, but not her."

"It's hardly our first fight." She snipped at him, watching the corner of his mouth quirk up.

"Since the wedding." He corrected, pressing his stump against the small of her back.

"We haven't fought since the wedding?" She raised and eyebrow at him.

"I prefer to think of it as foreplay." He decided, following her banter with barely contained relief.

"You do, do you?" She countered with a grin.

"I do." He kissed her forehead, and her eyes slipped shut letting the side of her face brush against his. They laid there in the darkness without speaking for so long Jaime was sure she'd fallen back asleep. He took slow even breaths, his left hand stretching out his fingers against her shoulder blade. He wouldn't sleep now, he couldn't. He knew he'd see Cersei's face. He knew he'd kill her. Over and over. He knew he'd die with her. Jaime swallowed hard, pulling back his arm and tracing it down the edges of Brienne's jaw.

"I'm on your side." She says softly, her eyes slipping open into his. "You know that don't you?"

"It's not the right side to be on." He admitted, looking away.

"I know you love her." Brienne told him evenly. "I've always known that, it doesn't change anything."

He swallowed hard, his eyes damp and red and looking anywhere but at her.

"I don't deserve this." He scoffed. He didn't deserve her. He did not deserve to be happy. He did not deserve to live here as King’s Landing burned because of her. Her, the other half of him.

"You're right." She told him firmly, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. "You didn't deserve the father you had, or your mother dying when you were so young. You didn't deserve to spend your life being controlled and manipulated by your sister. You didn't deserve to be branded the Kingslayer, or to loose the chance to claim your own children. You did not deserve to watch them die. You did not deserve to lose your hand and you did not deserve to be forced to live with the memories of what you have done.

"You're a good man. You're not like her. You don't have to die with her." She looked like she might sob, Jaime's throat felt raw and sour when he swallowed.

"The things I've done-."

"For her." Brienne interrupted sharply. "You did those things for her. Let them die with her." His lips trembled. "You deserve to be happy." She almost made him believe it. "We can be happy."

She kissed him then, soundly and desperately. He knew it was a plea. One her pride wouldn't allow her to actually make.

He rolled her to her back and covered her body with his. Touching and kissing and caressing her as reverently as he could, while slowly pushing his sister from his mind. He could be here. He could spend the rest of his life making her happy.

And maybe he could be happy too, all he had to do was let Cersei go.

…

Tyrion Lannister sat beside the fire examining his brother. He wished he could write off the dark circles under his eyes to being just over one month married, but he knew that wasn't it.

"Your lady made quiet the plea to spare our sister." He decided to broach the subject directly.

"I don't want to talk about it." Jaime rubbed his face.

"I'm not quite sure your worthy of her, bear pit rescue considered."

"You're telling this to me?" Jaime sniffed.

"Sansa seemed less moved then I." Tyrion sighed.

"I think I said I don't want to talk about this." His brother winced.

"But she did watch them execute her father." He continued.

"Please stop." Jaime groaned, turning to face his little brother head on.

"She did tell her that despite everything, Myrcella and Tommen were kind." He watched his face crumble just a little. "That they didn't deserve what happened to them, and that given the chance she felt this baby could be like them." Jaime looked hopeful. "My wife just feels that is Cersei's chance to give. Not the Queens."

"And Jon?"

"I'm not sure." Tyrion looked at his cup. "It's in our best interest right now that I stay away from asking Jon what he thinks."

"Does she know he's told them? That we know?" Jaime looked suddenly on guard.

"No." He shook his head. "No we don't suspect that, but if Daenerys' does find out-."

"We're all dragon food." Jaime finished. Tyrion raised an eyebrow and took a long drink. "Bran took a big risk by telling you."

"He told Sansa he looked back upon my life and realized that I was someone who could be trusted." He huffed.

"That must have been-."

"Slightly terrifying?" He completed looking at his brother.

"I was going to say nice." Jaime mused. "But dangerous, so we should never speak of it again." He picked up his own cup and took a swig. "And you shouldn't go South."

"You sound like my wife." Tyrion moaned. "I am her Hand, I can't very well not go. How do I explain that one?"

"But I'm supposed to stay here? Like a good Stark lap dog?" Jaime snorted. "While you go get yourself killed by our sister or fried by your queen?"

"Neither one of you should go South." Came a voice from the doorway.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tyrion snorted, but Jaime was already to his feet, his eyes fixed steadily on the cross bow.

"Bronn." The edge in Jaime's voice made Tyrion set his challis down on the table. "She sent you? How ironic of her. Nice touch. Make it personal."

"I'm not supposed to kill you." Bronn sighed heavily before Tyrion groaned.

"How much do I owe you?" The Imp grumbled.

"Two River Runs." Bronn raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well shit." The Imp muttered. Jaime still stood frozen as if his whole body had suddenly been dipped in gold.

"You're never getting River-." He muttered.

""I'm supposed to kill your wife." Bronn interrupted. "In front of you, as horribly as possible." He shook his head. "I knew you were fucking her." Jaime's eyes bore into him and just as suddenly as he arrived he dropped the cross bow onto the table and dropped into a chair. "Oh relax, She'd break me in two before I had a chance to touch a hair on her ugly-" Jaime's gold hand swept out like a lion's paw and he swatted his friend in the face with it, sending him crashing chair and all to the ground. Tyrion scrambled for the crossbow as Jaime stood over his victim.

"I thought you'd stopped wearing that damn thing?" Tyrion asked him breathlessly.

"I still wear it when I'm training the young men in the practice yard. They find it intimidating."

"I can see why." Tyrion was still messing with the contraption, in an attempt to disarm it.

"Give me that before we have a repeat performance where you gut yourself this time." He tossed the thing onto the table behind him. "What do we do with him?"

"We'll let the Lady of Winterfell decide that." Tyrion's mouth twitched into a half smile.

"Don't be too hard on him." Jaime decided. "I don't think he was really going to kill any of us."

"You're bride would not be pleased you defended her honor." Tyrion smirked.

"Let's not tell her that part shall we?" Jamie sighed, still looking at the man prone on the floor.

…..

"You are being ridiculous. I can take care of myself." His wife was yelling. "And you for that matter."

"Please, listen to me." Jaime said softly from his spot at the table as she paced back and forth around their chamber.

"I will listen to you when you say something that makes sense."

"She paid a man _a castle_ to come and kill you!" Jaime shouted back, his body rocketing from the chair. "In front of me." He added meekly. "I can't protect you from that."

"You've protected me from far worse." She was calmer now, but her voice was still firm and devoid of any warmth she may have allowed him. "And as I have stated before, I can protect myself."

"He walked right into Tyrion's study like he owned the place with a crossbow while we were half drunk, unarmed and talking about things that would get us killed for treason." Jaime swallowed hard. "My brother is the God Damned Lord of Winterfell and if it had been anyone but Bronn he would be stuffed and mounted for Cersei's throne room right now."

"Jaime-." She started dismissively, but he took the two giant steps until he was standing in front of her, stopping her methodical pacing.

"It's her or us." He said softly. "Don't you see that?"

"Let the Dragon Queen do the job." She ground out.

"And if she doesn't?" Jaime begged.

"Then we'll revisit this conversation." She swallowed. "I'm going to check in on Sansa's door guards. As you have proven to me that security has gone a bit slack around here." He watched her yank Oathkeeper from where it sat with Widow's Wail and stop to the door. "Try not to be murdered while I'm gone."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. It’s quick. Like a bandaid.

...

It's not until Tyrion left for King's Landing that Jaime worked up the nerve to go see Bronn.

"I wondered how long it would be till you came sulking around." The man said from his spot on the floor. He gestured to the large bruise on his face and gave Jaime a look of appreciation. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"If you push the right buttons." Jaime huffed, standing on the other side of the bars and looking at his old friend.

"I knew you were fucking her, I didn't know you loved her." Bronn snorted. "Guess I miscalculated. No wonder Cersei wants her dead."

"How is she?" Jaime asked sheepishly, trying to fight down the waves of guilt that rose in his chest.

"Angry." Bronn shrugged. "Pregnant." He gestured to his own stomach, rounding his hand around it like it was large. "Says it's Euron Greyjoy's. They're planning a big wedding. Invited half the city into the keep for it; like the Dragon Queen isn't about to fry them all."

Jaime pressed his face into his left hand, and leaned against the wall.

"Oh relax, everyone knows she's too far along for it to be Greyjoy's except for Greyjoy." Bronn growled at him.

"I wish it was." Jaime grunted, slowly sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the floor outside Bronn's cell like they were mirrors. "I wish it was Euron Fucking Greyjoy's and that she'd sent you here to kill me." He clenched his eyes shut. "She's going to sacrifice that city. Sacrifice the child. For what? So she can die a queen?"

"There's Greenfire." He nodded at Jaime. "She's got it stashed."

Jaime remembered the blue flame of the dead dragon and the red rush of fire from the living ones. He closed his eyes adding green to the mix.

"Are you the only one?" He asked hoarsely.

"That she sent to kill you?" Bronn asked flippedly.

"That she sent to kill my wife!" He yelled.

"You love her." The sellsword shook his head in disbelief.

"Answer me." Jaime swallowed, trying not to plead.

"I think so." He nodded quickly. "Haven't heard anyone else running around telling people they're the Lord of River Run."

"I thought you wanted Highgarden?" Jaime whispered, smirking at the memory.

"That's what I was going to barter with Tyrion for until you knocked me on my arse." Bronn shrugged, Jaime snickered back at him.

….

The first night he dreams that Cersei's dispatched the Golden Army to kill his wife is the first day he realizes he'd do anything to protect her. Anything.

That's when he started writing the letter, hoping he'd never need it. It was a few days later that he admitted to himself that he'd been sneaking around, watching her throughout the day. The next week he'd begun checking in almost compulsively. He knew she'd noticed, they'd spent too much time side by side, worrying about each other not to. She hadn't said anything. Worse yet, she had indulged him. Twice now she'd exchanged looks with Sansa before crossing the yard to him. 

Today is the third.

"Hi." She stood straight, her eyes forward and formal despite the softness of her tone.

"Hi." He scrubbed his hand over his face, feeling like an idiot. "How's Sansa?"

"She misses your brother." Brienne scanned the yard, officially looking for threats he supposed. He knew she wouldn't find it out there.

"So do I." He sighed. "I should let you work."

Sansa walked towards them, with long determined steps and they both turned towards her, eyes dropping on the paper in her hand.

"Sam received a raven from Tyrion." She told them breathlessly.

"And?" Brienne could sense the dread in him, her body going rod straight again.

"Euron Greyjoy's fleet attacked their ships. One of the dragons was killed and they've captured Missandei." Jaime swallowed hard and Sansa looked at him with something between pity and relief. "Jon is still days away at least.""

Jaime gave a quick nod, Sansa looked as if she had more to say, but she glanced quickly at Brienne before leaving them alone.

"She's spending the evening with Arya." His wife blinked at him. "I don't think I'll be necessary, if you need me to-." He tried not to say yes, but his body betrayed him with a nod. "Give me just a minute."

She walked back to the Lady of Winterfell and said something that made her glance up at Jaime with a look he never wanted to see again. He dropped his chin to his chest and waited for her to retrieve him.

"Have you eaten?" She asked as she returned to his side. He looked up at her, his eyes burning. He reached out and brushed his hand against hers and watched her stoney expression falter just a little. "Come with me."

Once inside their room, she turned her body toward his.

"Talk to me." She whispered, calmly, reaching up and undoing the clasp of her armor. "Tell me."

He watched her swing the breast plate off and wiggled free of her top layer. He ran his fingers over the shoulder strap of her undershirt. "Whatever it is that you see when you close your eyes, whatever is eating you up inside, please just tell me."

He slid his fingers along her jaw and she let the air leave her lungs in a controlled rush.

"Jaime we need to talk about this." She pleaded softly.

"You won't like what I have to say." He told her calmly, pressing his lips to the others side of her face.

"Jaime." She whispered, clenching the sleeve of his shirt in her fist.

"Just let me hold you." He kissed across her throat. "That'll make me feel better.

"We should-." Her hand was already undoing the ties of his outer clothes.

"Don't make me beg My Lady." He teased.

She ran her hands along his obliques and pulled away to rid them both of their clothes. He pulled her back to him and held her tightly.

"It won't fix anything." She sighed pressing her forehead into his clavicle.

"I know." He breathed. "I know."

She stuttered out a broken breath and he winced, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"I'm afraid this can't be fixed tonight."

...

He woke up with a start. He'd dreamt the mountain had gouged out her sapphire blue eyes. He's dreamt of his baby's bashed in head, laid at the feet of the Iron Throne. He's dreamt of Cersei holding a dagger to Tyrion's throat. He's pictured his sister dead on the floor map of Westeros with Widow's Wail sticking from her chest.

He realized he's alone when her hands didn't rush to comfort him and for the first time he's cold in the swelteringly hot room. He put his palm on the spot where she lies and it's cool too. She must have gone to check on Sansa. Jaime rose and gathered what he'll need without letting himself think about it.

He fights himself into his armor and sits at the foot of the bed for a second. Clutching the letter in his hand. He wanted to be gone by the time she came back but he's still sitting there.

"What are you doing?" She asked, with a resoluteness in her voice that told him she knew exactly what he was doing.

"I have to go to King's Landing." He didn't mean to say it, but now that he has he knows it was a mistake. Her eyes widen, and she huffs out a strangled sound that makes his heart clench in his chest. "I have to try and stop her."

"You really don't." Her voice is flat.

"I really do." He swallowed hard, looking at the ground.

"Getting yourself killed with her isn't going to solve anything."

"I might save the population of an entire city." He yelled. "It might save the child. It might save my brother. It might save-."

He stopped himself but she heard the name anyway. Cersei. Always Cersei.

"Go on." She told him, her voice is now stone and it's slowly crushing him. "Say it."

"I don't want to fight with you about this." He rubbed his face.

"You don't want her between us, but she already is." Brienne shook her head slowly. "She always has been."

"You are my wife." He countered quickly.

"And she is your sister." Brienne said, as a matter of fact.

"She wants you dead." He whispered. "Don't you see that? Because of me. She wants you dead. I talked to Bronn."

"Bronn, the man sent to kill us? That's your wise counsel? That's who you're confiding in and listening to instead of me?" She demanded.

"There are things he understands that you do not."

"I'm sure there are." She yelped. "I can protect myself."

"What if Daenerys fails?"

"I can protect myself." She repeated stubbornly.

"Against a mad queen?" He looked up at her like a little boy. "I won't have you killed for my mistakes. I won't have an entire city, the one that I suffered dishonorment to save once before, burn to the ground at the hands of Cersei Lannister."

"Is that what it is?" She challenged him, and he remembered the expression of her rod straight in the bath at Harrenhall as he kept his eyes trained on hers. "Honor? Or is it about Cersei. Your sick obsession with your-."

"Maybe it is." He whispered so softly despite the fact that it sucks the air out of the room. "Maybe it is." Jaime could see the tears forming in her eyes then and he gripped the edge of the mattress to keep from going to her. He knew she would reject his comfort now. Jaime moved his eyes back to the floor. "If I'm so redeemable, why isn't she?" He shrugged. "Wouldn't that be the great irony." He heard the edge creeping into his voice. One he hadn't used on her in a very long time. "If it turned out that the Honorable Ser Jaime Lannister was really still the shit person you thought he was in the beginning? If your little rehab project was a failure and I am no better the Cersei."

He clicked his eyes up to her and watched her try to steady the tremble that wracked her body.

"Don't be hateful." Brienne ground out.

"I am hateful." He shook his head. "And so is she."

Jaime stood up slowly, grabbed his things before grasping his gold hand in his flesh palm.

"Goodbye Brienne." He whispered as he passed her, just as he had so many times before.


	10. Chapter 10

He hadn't slept in four days. He knew if he didn't soon he'll fall off the damn horse. He heard her voice shouting in his mind, a distant reminder from the past of what it feels like to fall off your horse. The animal was tired. He was tired.

Jaime dismounted and went to work hobbling his mare, presenting it with water and food.

He'd sent a letter to Tyrion but he didn't even know if his brother was still alive to receive it.

He remembered telling Bronn he wanted to die in the arms of the woman he loves, but he no longer knew who that was. If you would have told any version of past Jaime Lannister that he would ever be confused about this he would have laughed in your face, and possibly killed you, but that now seems like a long time ago. The further he'd strayed from her, the looser her hold on him had become. At first it frightened him, creating a desperate desire to return to her.

Until Harrenhall, where he'd felt something shift. For a moment he'd thought he'd die in another's arms, right there his face pressed against her pale naked body, and it had somehow seemed alright.

Jaime knew now he'd kill Cersei to protect his wife. He'd kill anyone to protect his wife, but he also knew there was some truth to what he'd said to her. If Cersei could be redeemed, he owed it to her didn't he? To give her the same chance Brienne had given him? Didn't he? 

And then what?

That was the part he couldn't quite figure out. The part that didn't work. He'd redeem her, then what? Drop her off at Casterly Rock, begging King Jon's mercy and return to his wife?

Or maybe he could take her to Winterfell, get her a nice job in the kitchens? Clearly Sansa would oblige, give her and the baby a nice little chamber near his and Brienne's? She'd turn Winterfell into a home for wayward lions.

He felt like a fool, freezing in the mud waiting for sleep that brought nightmares of his wife and child being killed by his twin in the most methodical and horrible ways. And this time when he woke in terror he couldn't be reassured of her safety by her soft pale body surrounding his.

He touched his hand to Widow Wails hilt when he heard the hoofs approach him. Sansa had promised him safe passage, but the dragons and lions didn't answer to her. He waited, wondering if it was even worth the fight.

"Ser Jaime." Someone said into the darkness. "We are to take you to the Hand of the Queen at once."

"Which Queen?" He rasped, before laughing bitterly. "Which fucking queen?"

…..

"You wanted to see me My Lady."

Sansa blinked, her head tilting to the left as she studied the other woman. She looked as she always had, the only difference was the slight tightness in her forehead, like she had a headache, or was straining to see clearly. Sansa figured it was a bit of both.

"How are you?"

"I'm well." She said automatically, refusing to acknowledge the depth of the question. Sansa waited. "I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are." She told her gently, turning to her desk.

Brienne's face betrayed her for just a moment. She envied Sansa's gentleness, after all she'd be through, she’d somehow managed to be fiercely strong by still remarkably vulnerable. It made Brienne feel both jealous and broken.

When the Lady of Winterfell turned again she clutched a piece of paper tightly in her hand.

"Ser Jaime-." Sansa began.

"Is where he wants to be." Brienne said sharply. "And I am where I want to be." Sansa held her eyes before looking down at her hand and touching the paper almost tenderly.

"He left this with me." The younger woman opened her palm, Brienne remained statue still.

"My Lady.." She didn't know what she meant to say next.

"I swore to him that I would only give it to you if we got word he'd been killed." Sansa noticed the way the other woman's jaw tightened and her breath quickened. "Turns out I'm not as good at keeping my sworn word as you are. Tyrion wrote me to tell me he made it to camp this morning."

Brienne's eyes sunk shut in relief. She'd thought she had come to terms with his imminent death but the second Sansa had spoken the words everything in her had suddenly seemed meaningless. Her Lady reached out her arm and extended the paper to her and she took it.

"I have a new request of you." Sansa was still talking , but Brienne barely heard her, the paper was burning into her fingers and her mouth had gone dry. The sudden fear of losing him made the muscles of her body shake with the effort it took to stand. She wasn't ready. "As you know my husband has loyalties that conflict with his queen." Brienne looked up and watched her swallow hard. "And while he assures me that he is under her protection I feel that there are circumstances that may cause this to change. And not two weeks ago he and Jaime were nearly murdered by a sellsword in my home." Sansa lifted her chin. "I will not stand here in the North and leave him defenseless." Brienne's stoic resolve was cracking and Sansa knew she was walking a fine line.

"I am sworn to protect you-."

"If I recall correctly." Sansa interrupted, her face morphing into the formidable Lady of Winterfell that reminded Brienne of her mother. "You have been sworn to both my mother's daughters, have you not?"

Brienne nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

"Good then." She sighed. "My impulsive baby sister has also left Winterfell for the South and I fear for her safety as well."

Brienne straightened her mouth twitching.

"Your sister is quite capable-."

"Read the letter." Sansa whispered. "Get back to me with your decision afterward." Brienne's fingers gripped the paper as she nodded. "And Good Sister." She froze, the tears she'd been holding back threatening to spill. "If you need to talk about it." The knight nodded, as the tears slipped over her eyelids and she swiped them angrily away.

…..

"You are the dumbest Lannister." Tyrion had greeted his brother two days before with a sigh. "You look like shit."

"Thanks." Jaime huffed, rubbing his hands on his knees.

"What were you thinking?"

"I don't know." He hung his head.

"Were you going to stop her or save her?"

"I don't know!" He exclaimed again, this time settling his eyes back on the ceiling of the tent.

"Well you should probably figure that out before they start giving out the jobs." Tyrion snorted.

"If I could appeal to her." He whispered.

"I tried." Tyrion told him.

"Well she likes me more than you."

"She left Bronn a detailed description on how she wanted your wife killed while you watched. She's got a bounty on your head for treason.” He gestured angrily at Jaime’s hand. “And you come into town with that damn golden bullseye."

"She'll take me back." Jaime told him firmly. Tyrion looked at him. "Use me. Use me to get to her."

"So you've made your decision?" Jaime didn't say anything. Tyrion watched him swallow hard before looking down at his hands.

"You've been in contact with Sansa?" His older brother glanced at him and he nodded. "Has she said anything about…" His eyes closed again and he bit his lip.

"You are an idiot." Tyrion sighed and Jaime snorted out a pitiful laugh, his eyes filling with tears as he did.

"Guilty as charged."

"I'll ask about your wife the next time I correspond with mine." His younger brother sighed. "I am glad you're here though, our time being in the Dragon Queens good graces is running out."

"Why?"

"Sanasa told Varys about Jon." He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Is she insane?" Jaime squeaked.

"More likely impatient." Tyrion shook his head.

"She's going to get us all killed!" Jaime swallowed.

"I'm pretty sure that was not her intention, but she does see that as a very real possibility now."

….

Once sealed inside her chamber Brienne closed her eyes tightly and unrolled the note. She moved her hand across the page, it must have taken him hours to write this much, this clearly. She wiped her eyes and scanned the page.

_I don't expect you to forgive me, but I promise you if I had lived I'd be grovelling at your feet for that forgiveness right now._

_Cersei understood our connection before I did, possibly before even you had realized. She used you to get to me and she wouldn't hesitate to use me to get to you._

_She'd have killed you. I couldn't let that happen._

_I promise you. Even now as I watch you sleep that my last thoughts will have been of you. My last breath I will have closed my eyes and remembered being in your arms. You in sept on our wedding day with the stained glass glowing behind you._

_I wanted to fight at your side until my last breath, but I couldn't let you die for this._

_Please forgive me. I had to do this on my own. You'll be fine without me I know you will, but I wouldn't have survived a minute without you._

_I love you. I'm sorry you never got to hear me say it_.

"You stupid man." She whispered to the paper. "You stupid, stupid Man."

Brienne stood slowly and splashed water across her face before taking a deep breath and marching back across the yard.

"Podrick!" She called crisply and he jumped to his feet and followed. She found Sansa where she'd left her. "And who will protect you in my absence my Lady?"

The wardeness of the North slid her eyes to the squire before turning back to her and giving a tight nod. Brienne turned to the young man.

"Podrick. In a few minutes I am going to ask as your last act as my squire that you'll ready my horse, but first I ask if you pledge your allegiance to this house."

He looked at her in confusion.

"Yes My Lady."

"And you would fulfill my oath to Lady Sansa if I were unable?"

"Of course my Lady." Brienne swallowed before swinging her eyes back to Sansa who gave her another tight nod.

"The pledge now please." Brienne's words were curt and urgent. Pod's mouth slipped open."Now please. Your sword."

She stood back as her prodigy laid his sword at Sansa's feet, trying to slow the adrenaline coursing through her. He was at least a week's ride, probably more. He could be dead by then. Pod rose and turned to her in confusion once again. She forced herself to smile.

"I know you'll let no harm come to her."

"On my life." He told her quickly and she nodded.

"You'll ready my horse?"

"Where will you be heading Ser?"

"White Harbor." Sansa interjected as both sets of eyes turned to her. "There is a ship waiting for her there." Pod hurried off and Brienne turned to Sansa. 

“You’ll insure Jon knights him?”

“He’ll wait for you.” Sansa said gently. “And Jaime.” Brienne closed her eyes. “But yes, I’ll make sure.” She sighed. “I meant what I said about my husband. I've grown quite fond of him." She grinned at the other woman. "But your own Lannister is to be your main concern."

Brienne suddenly found herself clutching the girl to her chest, her breath uneven and course.

"Fare thee well Sister." Sansa whispered before pulling back and leaving her standing alone in the small courtyard.


	11. Chapter 11

"You have to listen to me." Tyrion hissed in the darkness.

Jon's head shook slowly back and forth.

"Did you not see what just happened here?" Jon sighed. "How treason will be dealt with?'

"Yes. She just fried a man I have known my whole life. I don't know why you and I are still alive, but if we'd like to keep it that way I suggest you think very long and hard about where your loyalties lie."

"What do you know about my loyalties?" Jon grumbled back.

"Like it or not I am married to your sister, I’m the Lord of Winterfell, and I speak here on her behalf as much as my own."

"You think you speak for my sister?" Jon snarled. “For Winterfell?” 

"Your sister wants you to end this before it gets-." The Imp had climbed on to a rock so he could look Jon in the eye.

"Your marriage to Sansa is a power grab at best and a sham at wo-."

"Tyrion's right." Ayra whispered from the darkness. She'd been a couple feet behind them, but she moved slowly into the light of the fire. "He speaks for Sansa."

"Ayra." Jon snorted.

"She's happy Jon.” Arya shook her head. “Have you been too busy trying to pacify your aunt's thirst for power that you haven't noticed?"

"Happy?"

"She refused the Moon Tea, so I'm going to go ahead and say she's made her choice." Ayra noticed that Tyrion's head had snapped towards her when she said that, she gave him a side glance, with a smirk.

"Arya!" Jon grimaced.

"Like it or not House Stark is now firmly in bed with the Lannisters." Arya stated boldly. "I spoke to the Kingslayer today. He’s in a dark place, but he will do what’s right for the realm. His only ask was for the safety of the child.” Jon looked towards the tent where Dany slept. “On that note, Ser Brienne will be arriving in the morning." She looked at Jon and then back to Tyrion. "I'd like her with me."

"So the decisions been made then?" Jon shook his head in disbelief. 

"The decision was made the second that Daenerys told you not to tell us who you really were." Ayra stared at him in the darkness. "When you did so anyway."

He dropped his eyes to the dirt.

"I'm asking you to remember who you are now." Ayra took a step towards him.

"Which?" His eyes were wet and conflicted when he looks at her. "Which part?"

"You are a Stark." She placed her hand over his heart and bore her large eyes into his.

"Your family has always tried to do what's right." The Imp reminded him.

"And where has it gotten us?" Jon mumbled, his eyes never leaving his little sister’s. "Our mothers are dead. Our father is dead.Our brothers are dead." He winced heavily. "My Uncle. Cousins.." He rubbed his face trying to clear the confusion.

"Stop." Arya leaned forward into him.

"All gone." He looked towards the sky.

"Well, you're still here." Tyrion said softly. "And the rest of the realm is looking to you for what to do next."

"Jon?" He looked back at his sister. "You have to remember!"

"The North Remembers." He told her, his hand folding over hers, still pressed against his chest plate. A slow smile spread across her face. He looked at Tyrion. "Arya, go to Flea Bottom and tell Jaime Lannister we have a deal." Tyrion’s shoulders sagged in relief as Jon turned back to Arya, gripping her shoulders. "Be careful."

"Always." She breathed, pulling him close before rushing away.

….

She arrived the next morning under Yara's protection. The Lady of the Iron Isles and Arya had already found themselves deep in strategy, a large paper map unrolled on the cold stone floor of the Dragon Crypt. Brienne had let herself feel the pride that they had already infiltrated the castle and Cersei was none the wiser.

"The rest of my fleet will follow me when Euron falls. I know they will." Yara was telling Arya confidently.

"Any that don't we'll feed to the dragons." Arya shrugged. "We just need Euron separated.”

"When the child comes." Brienne knew Yara's whisper was for her, her cheeks reddened, as if she didn't know about the child. As if it wasn't half the reason she hadn't ridden directly into the throne room and sliced the woman in two herself.

"We can access the Keep. I can come and go undetected, and we'll have our man inside this evening."

It's the mention of him that caused Brienne's impatience to become intolerable.

"If you don't mind it, My Lady; I'm to accompany Lord Tyrion today."

"I don't mind it." She didn't look up from her plans. "And I'm no one's Lady."

"Thank you." She ignored the last part. "Lady Yara I'm grateful to you for my safe passage."

"Don't be too hard on him. He is a Lannister." Yara sighed. "You had to know what that meant.”

"Yes." Arya looked up from the map for the first time. "Do remember we need your husband alive. Not unbruised though, if I do say so myself."

"I'll keep it in mind." She mumbled, three days of anticipation settling in her gut.

By the time she met Tyrion in Flea Bottom her anger is fresh again.

"Hello Good Sister." The Imp greeted, attempting to fall in step with her. She forced herself to slow her stride. "How is my bride?"

"She misses you, My Lord." Brienne told him honestly. "More than she expected, I think."

"That's nice to hear." He sighed.

"And my stupid husband?"

"He feels properly horrible if it makes you feel any better." Tyrion mumbled.

"I'm not sure it does." Her words are clipped, her eyes scanning the streets for danger.

"You'll see for yourself soon enough." He sighed, stopping in front of a dirty pot shop.

"What the hell is he doing here anyhow?" She wrinkled her nose when she spoke, her eyes moving over the crowd. She figured he'd yet to arrive and it made her heartbeat increase with anticipation.

"He refused to stay with our forces. He says he’s worried word will get back to Cersei, but I think it’s the little wolf he’s really scared of. This is the safest place for him to be until we're ready for him to be in the Keep."

"The safest place for him is Winterfell." Her tone was accusing, her eyes fluttering over the patrons.

"I don't disagree." He implored. "Why are you angry with me?"

"I'm not!" She growled, before swallowing hard. "I'm just angry."

"It's very scary." Tyrion grinned.

"I can't believe he's safe here. It's not like he can blend in." She grimaced. "He'll surely be recognized."

"You didn't." Tyrion told her gently, gesturing towards the back table.

He watched her confusion melt into realization as her eyes fell on the beggar in the corner, using his left hand to scoop what looked like human waste around in a bowl gripped in his right elbow.

"Wait here." Her husband's little brother gestured for her to stay as he approached him slowly. Brienne tried to stop her eyes from tearing, but it's no use, memories of him dirty, bound and battered at Harrenhal washed over her and she couldn’t stop the bitter salty taste of tears in her throat.

…...

"Arya has set up camp in the Dragon Crypt." He told his brother, leaning over the table towards him.

"And she thinks she'll be able to go undetected?" Jaime looked at Tyrion like he was insane from beneath his beggar's cloak.

"The girl has some pretty impressive capabilities." Tyrion shrugged. "You're not actually eating that are you?"

"You can only push it around the bowl for so long." He grunted. “I’ve had worse.”

"The queen wants to try and trade you for Melisande."

"She won't take it." He shook his head. "The only way she lets me in is if I come of my own. You know that."

"It was worth a shot." Tyrion shrugged. "We plan on telling her we never found you."

"And the Starks let you tell me this?" Jaime tilted his head. "Am I to believe that they trust me? How do they know I won't tell Cersei and get them all killed?"

"About that." Tyrion took a deep breath, and looked over Jaime's shoulder. His brother stiffened, afraid to turn around. "Your wife arrived this morning." He watched his brother's face pale as his head craned back. "I guess they figured you might not want to kill her."

"She.." He shook his head, trying and failing to pull his eyes off of Brienne to look back at him. "She cannot be here. I want her in Winterfell, behind a blanketed wasteland of ice and snow and at least two walls. Not in the bowels of the damn Red Keep."

"Seems she doesn't give a fuck what you want." Tyrion shrugged. Jaime rubbed his face, looking back at him. "It's not too late. Come with us. You can stay with Arya’s-." Jaime shook his head. "Fine. Do it your way, what do I know. Just be careful, I don’t want to be an only child; and don't forget to ring the damn bell."

Tyrion strode away, looking up at his brother’s wife with a raised eyebrow.

"He's all yours my Lady. I hope you have better luck than I've had."


	12. Chapter 12

He rises when Tyrion leaves, partly because he doesn't know what else to do, and partly because it puts him at a strategic disadvantage if he's still in the chair. The bowl clatters to the table and when he meets her eyes the sadness there makes him look away.

"Why would you come here?" He asked harshly; in genuine amazement, swallowing hard and daring himself to look up again.

The anger flooded back into her features and before he can react she strikes him. Her palm crashed against his cheek hard enough to send him stumbling back.

“Oh!” She shouted at the realization of what she’s done. He winced, his tongue darts out and tasted the blood on his lip and he couldn’t stop himself from flinching as her other hand rose.

“Oh Gods.” She let out a huff of breath, her trembling hand pausing before his face. He took her wrist in his grasp and pulled her arm forward.

"It's alright." He whispered to her, laying her palm against his face. "I deserved it."

"I-." She forced out the words, her thumb trailing over his lips. “Jaime..” He kissed the pad. The gentleness made his heart ache. 

"You shouldn't have come here. I didn't want you to come here."

"I didn't want you to come here." Brienne's eyebrows pinched and Jaime wants to lean forward and press his forehead to hers, but he can't bring himself any closer.

"I know." He told her again in a tone that made her want to sob, instead she pulled her hand slowly away from his face, he followed her, unwilling to let his grip release her fingers.

"If Sansa would have given me that letter after you were dead, after I could do nothing to help you with this mess you've gotten yourself into-." She pulled her hand away. "I would have never forgiven you. I would have gone to my grave a useless old widow, a Knight of the seven kingdoms who couldn't protect the one person-." She stopped, swallowing against the bile that has risen in her throat. "Is that what you wanted for me, Jaime?"

He titled his head at her in the way he always did when he couldn't find words strong enough to fight past the lump in his throat and she presses her lips tightly until they disappear completely.

He wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted her to hear it from his lips before he's no longer alive to say it, but he knew it would be cruel now. He was dirty and dressed in rags, the disgusting smell of Flea Bottom wafting around them. He couldn't pull her to him here. He couldn't slide his hand down the side of her body and grasp her hip to his like he wanted to. He could only stare as she tried to fight the anger and sadness he can see in her pale face as she tried to keep the tight hold on her emotions that he's had the honor of watching fall away. She was desperately trying to withhold from him that honor now.

“I meet with Arya tonight. I’m going in.” He confessed to her in one whoosh of breath. 

“I know.” Brienne whispered back, her fingers tightening around his just a little. 

“I can do this Brienne.” He told her boldly. He wanted to hear her say it, that she still believes in him. She blinked looking to where his fingers gripped desperately at hers. When she was sure she wouldn’t cry again she raised her eyes to his. He let go of her hand.

So they stared, as they had so many times before, the words they can't say moving silently between them. He watched her shoulders lift in that resolute way that they did when she had found the strength to walk away or cast him out and he panicked, grabbing frantically for her arm. He closed his eyes in relief when she didn't pull away, stroking his thumb across her wrist rhythmically.

"Be careful." She begged him softly. "Please, Jaime.."

He loosened his grip and her fingers interlaced with hers.

"I will try." He met her bright eyes. "I swear it to you."

"Try hard." She whispered, pulling her hand away from him and starting out of the pot shop. "I'm not done yelling at you yet."

Jaime couldn't help but smile as he watched her go.

….

When he’d met Arya Stark on the outskirts of King Landing, she had asked him which of the Queen's Guard Cersei and Qyburn trusted the most outside the mountain.

He had not expected that meant the small girl was going to kill Ser Kilmen in one blow.

"Shit." He looked up at her, still buckling his Lannister Armor that she’d brought him into place.

"Yeah… so you might want to look away for this part."

"What are going to do?" He grimaced in wonder.

"Cut off his face." She nodded back at him. "And then I'm going to wear it." Jaime Lannister made an involuntary gagging sound and Arya snorted out a laugh. "Like I said.."

He turned his face to the wall and waited.

"Okay." Came Kilmen's voice a few minutes later. Jaime turned slowly, his eyes fluttering from the crumpled faceless body to the fully alive man standing beside him. His mouth slid into a sneer as he starred in horror.

"Jesus what are you?" He managed to choke out as she carefully folded her clothes like a highborn lady she was and returned them to her bag.

"I am No One." She sighed, with a shrug of Kilmen's massive shoulder. "Now you're going to have to get over this fast because we have work to do."

"Right." He gulped, wondering how anyone gets over what he just witnessed. He looked back at Kilmen's dead body before taking a few steps away. “I’ll just forget that Arya Stark is a faceless man.”

"We strike now while the queen is giving birth."

"What?" Jaime's head whipped around to face her. "Now?"

"Don't make me doubt you Kingslayer." She growled at him with Kilmen's voice. "You say you want her dead."

"It's still my child." He answered numbly. Arya's eyes studied him from the man's face. Jaime was lost in a memory of watching his sister as she screamed their children into the world. She was cradling Myrcella, and tracing her rosebud lips with her finger. She was pinching Tommen's chubby cheek. He blinked heavily at the loss. "My only living child."

"I suppose it is." She whispered with just a hint of pity. "I'm going in with you to get you passed, then I'm going after Euron. We need his dead corpse to convince the Iron Born to follow their true Lady."

"Why don't you just use his face to have him bend the knee to her?" Jaime shrugged. "Or can you only use so many in a week or..?"

He watched with sick fascination as Ayra's small smirk appeared on the lumbering Knights rugged face.

"You're full of wonderful ideas, Kingslayer." She snorted. "Let's go."

….

"Come on Jaime." Tyrion stood his binoculars pressed against his face as he waited."Come on."

He grit his teeth, worrying his brother had underestimated their sister for the last time. He glanced back down at the shore. He didn't want to think about what his brother's formidable wife would do if he returned to tell her that her husband had failed. He was envisioning the different ways Brienne of Tarth would single handedly take down the scorpions and the entire Iron Fleet, when he saw the crack of light go up from the Tower of the Hand.

He sighed in relief as he trudged back down the rocky landscape to the entrance of the Dragon Crypt.

"They're in." He told the group assembled. Yara smiled at him before nodding to her attendant, who hurried to inform the queen.

…

Jaime Lannister sat rigid in the small hall drinking with Euron Greyjoy and the fake Ser Killmen as his sister screamed and writhed a few rooms down. She’d called for him, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to face her. Too see her weak and helpless and keep to the plan wasn’t something he was sure he could do.

He had one job. Get the baby out of the Keep. All he had to do was wait until it was born and then find a moment to get the baby out of the Keep. Away from Qyburn and his sister, someplace safe. 

He looked at Greyjoy, leasurly tilted back in his chair. Far to calm. He wondered if Arya was poisoning the current expectant father who did not seem bothered that his child was arriving far earlier than was actually possible. 

“She knew you’d come back.” Euron said with a shake of his head, continuing the taunting he’d started almost immediately after he’d arrived. “She said you were loyal. That’d you had no where else to go. Nothing worth doing.”

Jaime moved his jaw, feeling the bruise there. He let it center him. Brienne, focus on Brienne. 

“She said she’d kill your beast of a wife, set you free, and you’d be back.” He waved his hands wide. “And here you are.”

Jaime swallowed hard. 

_ Play the part _ . 

He felt dizzy. Far too dizzy for the amount of wine that he’d drank. 

Maybe Arya was poisoning him too? He looked at Ser Kilmen with mild reproach. The skinned face smiled sickly at him. Jaime could not pinpoint the last time he’d slept. He took another drink. His lip burned where Brienne had struck him, he ran his teeth over it and tried to think of her. Just her. 

A particularly shrill scream erupted down the hall and Jaime pressed his head back against the chair. The room spun slightly when he looked forward again.

"Least you could do was be in there with her." He spit at Greyjoy, the first words he’d spoken in quiet a while. Cersei screamed again. 

_ His child. His child. His child. _ It echoed in his ears. Each moment made the pull stronger. 

"I've done the least that was required." The pirate slurred. "That's all I need to do."

Jaime grunted, pushing himself away from the table. Not Kilmen watched him carefully.

"I've heard enough." He mumbled, his body learching drunkenly to the side. He could hear Not Kilmen take a step towards him. "I'm going to bed, someone can inform me when my new niece or nephew arrives."

He glanced back at the men, looking deep into Arya's eyes as if he could tell her what he intended to do. She nodded in understanding as Jaime Lannister descended the stairs and kept going until he reached the bowels of the Red Keep.

Somewhere along the line he'd stopped and leaned heavily against the wall to catch his breath. He tried to clear his head, reaching to grasp onto any inch of sobriety he had left, but it was no use. He was drunk, exhausted and more than a little heartbroken.

…

She could hear someone breathing in the entrance to the cove that has become her bedchamber. As carefully as possible she reached for the small dagger that Tyrion had given her as a wedding gift, clutching the hilt under her pillow.

Her unannounced visitor let out a staggered familiar breath and she let go of the dagger and sat up slowly in the dark. She could see him, back lit by the torch light in the hall.

"Are you hurt?" She whispered harshly into the quiet room.

He shook his head fiercely, leaning against the wall and staring at her. His barely contained sobs shook in his chest. She winced at his bruised face and cut lip before slowly lifting the blanket around her with one hand while reaching her hand out to him with the other.

He pushed off the wall slowly, dropping to his knees at her side. His breath came in choppy huffs as she pulled him towards her in the darkness. She could smell the wine on his breath as his hand came up and clenched itself painfully tight in her hair.

"Shhh.." She leaned him into her, shushing and soothing. Her hands sprawled out against his back as he burrowed deep into her neck.

"I need.." He whispered hoarsely, his throat raw. "Please. Forgive me."

"Jaime.." She lulled, pressing her lips to his ear, his neck, his temple.

"Forgive me." He cried."I need you, please forgi-."

"You know I have." She told him, pushing him back slightly. "You know I always will."

"I can't do this." He told her weakly. "I can't do it anymore."

"It's alright. It’s almost over." She moved to the clasps of his breastplate, pulling it off and pressed him down to the pillow. He lifted his lame arm pathetically towards her. She undid the laces and sent it skidding across the floor. 

He closed his eyes and tried in vain to compose himself and she methodically undid the clasps of his armor and pulled it from his body. Her hands slipped into the top of his tunic and she ran her palm over his chest in slow circles. Jaime brought his hand back up to her face as she dipped down to him and kissed the welt she'd left that morning.

"I'm so sorry I struck you." He shook his head clutching at her shoulder, pressing his cheek against hers.

“It doesn’t matter.” He sputtered. “I-. Please make it stop. I can’t make it stop.”

“Shh.. I’ve got you.” She dropped beside him and collected him in her arms. “I’m here.”

"Brienne." Whined heavily, running his thumb over his lips.

"You need sleep, Jaime." She coaxed. "Close your eyes."

"I have to tell you." He breathed.

"I already know, my darling." She pressed her cheek to his temple. "I know."

"I'm.. I.." He struggled sniffing in ragged breaths as her palms moved over his body trying to still him.

"Shh." She pressed a kiss to the side of his face. "Slow breaths."

"You always hated it when I said that." He hiccuped, pulling back a bit and opening his green eyes into hers. 

"But I did it anyway because you were right." She smiled stroking his jaw as he slid his right arm under hers, grasping at her curved hip with his left hand. His eyes slipped shut and he stilled his breathing.

"I got drunk with Euron Greyjoy and a little girl with the face of a grown man." He mumbled. "While Cersei screamed."

"Shh.. sleep." She coaxed.

"I kept dreaming the Mountain would kill you." He suddenly found he couldn't stop telling her all the things he'd kept locked inside of himself. “At Winterfell before I left. I couldn’t make it stop. Please make it stop.”

"I'm safe. You're safe."

"I dreamt he bashed the baby's head in like Aegon- the first Aegon.- with the silver white hair." She moved her body as close as she could and he molded around her. "There was fire of blue and red and green and everyone burned. She burned them all, Margaery Tyrell, she-. Tommen couldn't-. I should have-."

"Sleep Jaime." She repeated before he could start again. She pressed her lips to his, and he met her with more eagerness that his body was capable of, whimpering when she pulled back. "Sleep."

“I think Arya Stark poisoned me.” He swallowed, his voice light and japing. 

”I assure you she didn’t.” Brienne whispered back, with just a touch of laughter. 

His hand left her hip, pressing against her face as his green eyes opened into hers.

"I love you." He swallowed. "I know I don't deserve you, but I won't make it without you and I love you."

She smiled at him, slowly pressing her forehead to his.

"And I love you." She promised him. "Now sleep."

For the first time in a month Jaime Lannister slept dreamlessly through the night.


	13. Chapter 13

Jaime Lannister opened his eyes slowly. 

He had no idea where he was, but the bed was hard as stone and his head ached. He blinked a few times before his eyes focused on a very large leg bone tucked off into the corner of the room. A dragon’s leg bone. 

Slowly, he remembered wine and Arya's face that was not her face. He remembered the screaming and the long dark halls, and then he remembered his wife.

Beside him, her warm body stirred, her long leg dragging across him awakening an entirely different part of his body. Their time in the North had made the heat intolerable to her, at some point she'd wiggled free of her breeches. He smirked a little at that. So far from the young woman ten years before that had slept in her armor for protection.

Jaime rolled on his side, pressing his palm into the leg and following it.

"You're still here." She whispered airly, her eyes still closed.

"Mmm." His fingers had found her hip and for a second he marveled at the way it fit so soundly in his palm. "There are only two times I truly miss my hand." He said softly. "When I'm fighting and when I'm touching you like this."

"I never thought you'd touch me like this again." She swallowed.

"I worried you'd never let me." He pressed his mouth to hers, then to her clavicle, before moving the neck line of her shirt to the side and kissing her breast.

"Jaime they're right outside." She protested weakly, looking at the open arch way.

"It's early." His lame arm was slipping over her body and she followed it with her hand. "We'll be quiet."

"You can't be quiet." She reminded him even as she'd undone the clasp of his pants and was in the process of reaching for him.

"We don't have much-." He sucked in a breath as she circled her hand around him. "Gods."

"You have to be quiet." She reminded him, her blue eyes widening to match his as she stroked him. His teeth came down on his broken lip hard and he hissed at the way it tore open again. She wrinkled her eyes in sympathy before pressing a kiss there with a quiet comforting sound, grasping a bit tighter and stroking a bit faster.

"I can't-. You have to-." He murmured against her neck.

"You are in no position to tell me what I have to do, Ser Jaime." She purred at him, sliding her leg back up and over his hip.

"I beg your pardon My Lady." His voice faltered, and he groaned just a little, moving his hand from her thigh to her hand. "But we have slightly more time to spare than this allows for." He managed to free himself from her grasp and push her hand up over their heads, "I want-."

"What do you want?" She asked him, her other arm reaching back towards him. He dodged her attempt, pushing up her shirt and sliding down her sweat slicked body, pressing hungry kisses against her stomach before moving lower and drew her small clothes down with one hooked finger. "Oh Jaime.."

He lifted his face just a little and smirked at her.

"Shh." He teased before going back to her body. She gripped the edge of the pillow with one hand and stroked his hair with the other while he listened to her staggered breath.

"Jaime.." She pleaded softly, trying to coax him away, but he would have none of it until her thighs shook and went limp around him. Her fingers lazily tangled and untangled in his hair and he lifted himself back up to his knees and over her body. She rose to meet him, reaching for him again before molding her sex around his. Like a puppet with a cut string, his face fell into her clavicle with a whimper before he lifted his hand to the back of her head and kissed her firmly as they fought to control the rhythm and pace, until their bodies remembered how to work together. He growled against her shoulder and she clung to him.

She shattered again, and her soft cry is too much for him, he moans his release into her mouth before peppering her face with soft gentle kisses.

"I love you." He reminded her, in case she'd forgotten in the night. "I've missed you."

"Me? Or this?" She teased.

"All of it." He tells her breathlessly, taking deep sniffs of her hair, trying to fill his senses with her. "I've missed all of it."

They both knew he had to leave, but he pulled her back down to the bedding with him anyway, wrapping their bodies together.

He could feel her hands clenching and releasing his arms and he knows all the things she's trying not to ask of him; trying not to plead.

"Look at me." He touches her chin gently. "No matter what happens, I want you to remember this." He pulled her tight against him. "I want you to remember the morning we made love in the dragon crypt and I held you as close to me as I could. I want you to remember that I love you, and that there is no place else in the world I want to be more than in your arms."

"No." She touched his face, her eyebrows furrowing tightly. "Don't you dare say good-."

"Listen to me." He implored, his hand and wrist framing her face. "Please. Just listen to me." Her lips pressed closed. "I don't know where I'd be if our paths had never crossed. I don't know who I'd be. Probably upstairs watching my sister plot the deaths of thousands, wincing and saying nothing to stop it."

She pressed her face against his cheek and he held her head tightly to his.

"You found me and you dusted me off and you made me more." He swallowed hard. "You saw the maimed and broken parts and didn't look away."

"I love you." She sniffed.

"And I love you. I do. And I'd choose you." He gulped. "Again and again and again." He pressed his lips to hers. "But I have to go now."

She clenched her jaw to keep her protests from escaping as he pulled away slowly, touching his mouth to her forehead before standing up slowly and pulling his clothes back on. She rose, her beautiful alabaster body lit by the dwindling torch light, and helped him.

She let him kiss her throat while she did the laces up on his arm, before smoothing her hands over his armor and buckling his scabbard around his waist. She rested her fingers on the pommel of Widow's Wail and swallowed hard.

"Come back to me." She whispered as he pressed his lips to hers.

"I swear to you, I'll try."

….

"The Northern Army's here." John whispered to Arya at the mouth of the Dragon's Crypt.

"Euron Greyjoy surrendered his ships to Yara this morning." She informed him proudly.

"What caused that change of heart?" Jon grimaced at her.

"More of a change of face." She smirked. "How's your queen?"

"She's not taking Messandi’s death well." He sighed.

"I would suspect not." Arya took a few steps from the beach and turned to face her brother. "I don't think she takes failures very well."

"Does anyone?"

"When are you going to stop defending her?" Arya pinched her eyes tightly.

"She is my queen."

"She must be very good in bed." His little sister mused.

"That's enough." He rubbed his face.

"For you to trust her judgement over mine, over Sansa's and over Bran's." He looked away. "A woman you barely know."

"I know her better than you do." He sighed.

"I keep thinking about what Samwell told me when I asked him." She pushed herself forward despite the tightness of her brother's shoulders.

"What happened to the Tarly's-."

"He told me about Ygritte." Her voice was just loud enough to interrupt his defense. Arya watched his body flinch. "I'm sorry." Jon looked down. "I'm sorry I never got to meet her. She sounds extraordinary."

"I'm not going to do this." He shook his head dramatically.

"I know what it's like to try and fix the past." Arya nodded at him, before walking back to the Crypt entrance, she turned her head towards the black crow perched there, giving it a hard look. "But the past is already gone."

….

  
  


Jaime stood outside of her chambers taking in slow breaths through his slightly parted lips and trying to summon up someone he wasn’t anymore. 

He steeled his jaw shut when Qyburn swung open her chamber door, giving the creepy Maester a stiff nod. 

“Her Grace will see you now.” Jaime moved past him, turning back slightly when the man made to follow. 

“If you’ll see yourself out, my sister and I have a lot to discuss.” He hoped his voice sounded menacing as it left his lips. The man looked towards his queen. 

“See to our other projects.” Cersei told him flippantly, Jaime’s stomach clenched at her voice. “I’ll speak to my brother privately.” 

“As you wish.” The man bowed slightly at Jaime who watched him go before swinging his body around to face his sister. She lay back against the pillows of the bed, looking tired, but otherwise no worse for wear. 

“You came back.” Her voice was tinted with a sharpness he’d expected. He’d let her gloat if that's what it took. He had two tasks before him; rescue his child and kill his sister, and he wasn’t sure how long he had.

“Of course I did.” He sneered at her, as if the idea he wouldn’t was prosperous. 

“What happened to your face?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Seems the new Kingsgaurd didn’t realize I was still welcome in the Keep.” He took a deep breath and tried to look bored. “I guess the bounty on my head gave them pause.” 

“What would you have me do? You walked out on me. You betrayed me.” She hissed at him. 

“I hear congratulations are in order.” He interrupted. “I can’t wait to meet my new niece or nephew. Where’s the proud father? I’m sure he’s exhausted from all the hours he spent at your side.”

His eyes darted about the room, but he didn’t see a cradle. There was no wet nurse holding a bundle, it made Jaime’s heart beat in his ears. He glanced at the Mountain before looking back at his twin.

"I couldn't really let you have it after you abandoned me for the North and that.. Creature." Jaime's jaw clenched at Cersei's words..

"You wouldn't ever let me have any of them." He whispered.

"Maybe your cow wife will?" She shot at him. "Maybe she'll give birth to a whole herd of little calves." He stood motionless, unable to stop the grimace that appeared on his face. "Or was Bronn successful?" Jaime moved his eyes away from her, gritting his teeth so tightly his jaw ached. "He couldn't bring himself to kill Tyrion, but your massive whore wasn't so lucky was she? Is that why you're back here? Which way did he do it?"

"The North is coming with the Dragon Queen to sack King's Landing and kill you. You thought I would stay in Winterfell?" He yelped.

"Did he use the peeler I sent with him?" Cersei sighed, Jaime swallowed hard and wiped his hand across his lips as every nightmare he’d ever had flashed before his eyes. If she knew Brienne had survived Cersei would kill her, without second thought. "I've already killed one Dragon and one of her own. I'll kill the rest, without your help."

"And what then? You'll have Gregore here kill me and peel me while you watch?" He choked out the words, looking at her honestly for the first time since he'd arrived. “You ordered a woman dead when she had done nothing to you, she was just a pawn in a political marriage.” He forced the words out of his mouth disgust. “You put a bounty on my head!”

"You betrayed me!” Cersei shot back, her voice rising for the first time 

"I betrayed you. Tyrion betrayed you. Tommen betrayed you." Jaime shook his head. "I came back for you, just like always." Her face softened and he felt something in his chest start to burn. “To protect you, and our child.”

His body moved across the room on it’s own, despite the vague feeling of danger that was making its way up his spine. He perched himself on the edge of his sister's bed and studied her face. His gaze moving over the familiar patterns, he could still see the girl she used to be in there if he looked hard enough. 

  
  


"Because nothing else matters." She finished, her voice low, and almost tender.

"No." He whispered, his eyes wet. Her hand jetted up to his face and clasped his jaw tightly, her fingers digging into the bruise Brienne had left. Jaime bawled his fist and refused to wince as he looked into his sister's bright green eyes.

“If you ever disobey me again. I’ll have Ser Gregor take your head.” She told him venomously.

“Never again.” He promised her, surprised by his own sincerity. 

"Bring me the baby. I want to show you." She smiled at him, that delicate smile that had always made the tension in him drain away as she dropped her hand from his face. It throbbed steadily as he rose, his head felt foggy, like this was just another dream. 

The nursery was where it had always been. It was where each of his children had been nursed and weaned. It was where Joffrey had knocked over towers of blocks while Tommen and Myrcella rocked her fair haired baby dolls. He found his blonde haired infant in the gold, lion and stag decorated bassinet that his father had commissioned, beside a young woman curled in a chair looking out at the pale sky, knowing war was on the way.

"Are you the wet nurse?" She nodded. “The Dragon Queen’s here. She’s going to kill us all.”

Her eyes widened before she stood from the chair so quickly it fell over. The baby wailed and Jaime gathered it up quickly.

"It's alright, your father's here." He pressed his cheek against a fuzzy blonde head. "I'm going to take you to your Mummy." 

He looked back at the young woman, giving her his most charming grin. His voice slipped easily into the Kingslayer. “You should listen very closely to what I’m about to say.”

…..

"Arya!" She shot up from her perch at Jon's yell and rushed out toward the beach. "Get your people out. She's heading towards the Keep, she's going to bring it down."

"She knows we're here." Ayra's mouth stayed open after she'd spit the words out and he gave her a pained look.

"She's not thinking clearly." He told her before pushing her back towards the cove.. "You have to get your people out of here."

Jon was shouting orders, Arya turned towards the crow before looking up into the sky just in time to see the roar of dragon fire.

“She’s going to destroy the city.” The little wolf looked at her brother imploringly. Jon swallowed and looked away.

”Get your people out.” He repeated. 

…..

Brienne heaved the remaining supplies into the bag, looking back at Tyrion who was talking to Jon with animated gestures. She took a deep breath, swinging the bag onto her shoulder and turning just in time to come face to face with her husband.

"There she is." He whispered, looking down at the crook of his arm. "There's your Mummy. I told you we'd find her." Her mouth fell open and she took a hesitant step towards him as his hand reached out and grasped hers, pulling it to the blanket. "Your Mummy is going to get you the hell out of this doomed city. She's not going to let anything happen to you."

"Jaime.."

"Father has to go now." He told the baby shakily, looking up at Brienne as he let go of her hand and pulled the bag strap from her shoulder and settled the baby in her arms. "He has to help some people. Mummy's got you."

"Jaime, she's going to-."

"Take the baby to Tarth." He told her firmly, she opened her mouth and he pressed his own into it before she could speak. "You have to get someplace safe." He glanced over his shoulder at Tyrion and Jon, before nodding at his brother. "Make sure she goes."

Tyrion gave him a short nod.

"You can't go back-."

"I'll see you and Mummy in Tarth as soon as I can." He ignored her plea, pressing his face against the baby's head. "I love you." He slipped his eyes up to his wife. "Both of you."

Before she could say anything he had already started back through the tunnels. She turned towards Tyrion who took a heavy breath.

Jon grabbed the bag off the floor with one hand and grasped Brienne's arm with the other.

"Let's get out of here, you have a ship to catch." He growled.

"Jon, I have to move the fleet back before she fries us all!" Yara was yelling from the entryway.

"Do what you have to do." He called. "But we need safe passage to Tarth." He looked back at Brienne, then down at the baby. "Now."

Yara nodded, before turning and speaking to a small group of Iron Born.

"Jon!" Davos called from the entryway. "Daenerys is here."

Brienne could feel him stiffen at her side before Arya stepped between them, her hand moving Brienne the baby back towards Tyrion.

"This is what you're doing?" Dany said softly.

"We're trying to get our people to safety." Arya told her firmly.

" _ Your people _ , Your Grace." Tyrion reminded loudly. "Everyone here has bent the knee to you."

"Yet here you are, trying to smuggle out the heir." She looked at Brienne.

"I am taking my child home." Brienne said boldly, pulling the baby closer, freeing her other hand for Oath Keeper.

"So it can return in fifteen years time to usurp me?" She shook her head. "I won't allow it."

"You won't allow it?" Jon's voice was low. "What will you do?"

"The child must die." She said as a matter of fact, her fair face turning towards him.

"I will not allow any harm to come to this child, Your Grace." Brienne's hand gripped the hilt of her sword.

" _The child must die_?" Jon repeated back to her. "This child is no different than us! You and I were this child two short decades ago."

"Yes." She looked at him, her beautiful innocent eyes just a little too wide. "And look how that turned out. Ser Davos?" She turned to look at him. "Kill the child."

Brienne's sword made a shimmering sound as. She pulled it from its sheath. Arya's eyes darted from Jon to Dany and back again.

Her brother's hand rose towards Davos, palm open. He nodded back at him.

"If you will not, I will-."

"Burn us all?" Tyrion's voice rose again as Drogon's snorting breath could be heard at the entrance of the tomb. Dany backed up towards her dragon.

"You're not thinking clearly." Jon told her, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Kill the child or everyone dies." She told him firmly.

"Jon." Arya moved forward as the black crow flittered over to her. "She's left you no choice."

"Drogon.." The young woman's voice was menacingly sweet.

"Jon!" Arya yelled, pulling Needle from her belt. Brienne turned her body to the wall and crouched, holding her sword above her head in an attempt to protect the infant from what was about to happen.

"Now!" Jon Snow yelled, raising his Valyrian Steel sword above his head with everything he had left. It was just as the four remaining Stark’s had decided in the Godswood of their home weeks earlier. Arya watched the crow scatter away before the Dragon before them started to writhe, seemingly at battle with itself.

"Go!" Arya yelled, towards Tyrion, who was pushing Brienne towards the entrance before her brain caught up to what was happening. "Bran may not be able to hold it for long!"

Brienne watched the Dragon take flight flapping and folding against itself like an injured bird. She watched Jon's sword come down and land in Danny's chest. Tyrion let out a gasping shudder before glancing back at Brienne.

The baby was screaming now and Brienne held it close to her and made another attempt to get to the door.

The crow returned to Arya's feet, moving cautiously around her. The girl looked back at the Dragon.

As if understanding what had occurred, Drogon seemed to settle fluttering softly onto the beach. No one moved.

"Your Grace." Tyrion's hoarse whisper rose above the din. Jon's crumbled face didn't move as his eyes shifted towards him. "We have to leave here."

"Jon, you know you did what you had to do." Arya whispered soothingly as the shaking man let go of the sword.

"I know nothing." He told her slowly, his eyes looking up at her before darting to the baby.

"We have to go." Tyrion said evenly. "The Keep is unstable and the Dothraki and UnSullied-."

Jon gave a nod, stumbling away. Arya returned Needle to her side before pulling Jon's weapon from the body.

"Bring her." He said softly to Davos, he gave a nod.

Jon walked towards Drogon, looking into the creature's eyes.

"Go." He told it softly. "Go." The dragon snorted at him, before rearing its head back with a roar before returning it's face to Jon. He reached out slowly, dropping his hand onto it's snout. "Go."

He watched the giant creature turn its face back to Dany's body before it took off to the sky with a start. It's wide wings gliding east.

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  



	14. Chapter 14

The shore had become a flurry of disorder as supplies were frantically gathered and ships were launched. Jon stood motionless in the fray, backlit by fires of green and red. Arya and Yara were shouting orders while Tyrion Lannister attempted to push his sister in law towards the ship Yara had singled out for them.

"It's my fastest." She told him quickly before giving Brienne a tight nod and returning to the chaos.

"Lord Tyrion!" An Iron Born was carefully guiding a young woman towards them. "She says the Kingslayer sent her. Says she's the wet nurse."

"Yes." Tyrion said softly, smirking at the man's confusion.

"He said I could bring my daughter." The girl whispered nervously, pressing the baby’s face into her breast.

Brienne's head swung around to look at her, her raven black hair pulled off her cheeks in two braided plaits. 

"Is she your only family?" Tyrion questioned sharply, not wanting to orphan one more child today. "Your only child?"

"Yes Sir." The girl whispered, looking down at her chubby toddler.

"Come." Tyrion said quickly. "Come."

Brienne returned her gaze back at Kings Landing, the air over it black. Her eyes clenched shut and she once again fingered the pommel of her sword.

"Tyrion." She whispered softly. "Take the baby."

"No Good Sister." He whispered back. "I'm sorry but I can't allow you to do what you're thinking."

"By what authority-." She said stubbornly, her eyes never leaving the horrible sky.

"My brother needs you to live." Tyrion told her.

"I need him to-."

"He needs you to take your child and go from this place." Tyrion grasped her hand. "You are the one that restored his honor to him, My Lady. Let him uphold it now."

She turned and looked at the other man, before looking down at the baby screaming in her arms.

"This child needs you." He continued softly. "Jaime's child."

Brienne blinked down at the infant in the crook of her arm, suddenly pulling it tighter into her torso. 

"Come on." He coaxed, pushing at her hip. "You have to go."

She settled on the deck of the boat next to the girl and her daughter, Tyrion kissed the baby softly on the cheek before disembarking. She pressed her eyes shut as she felt the boat surge forward abruptly.

"What's your name?" She asked the wet nurse, her voice as formal as she could make it.

"Janali Waters." The girl whispered. "This is Amena."

"I'm Brienne." She looked back at the sky, sucking in the cleaner sea air into her burning lungs. "Ser Brienne of Tarth, wife of Jaime Lannister, Lady of Evenfall Hall and Casterly Rock."

"I didn't think women could be knights in this world." The girl said softly.

"This world has changed." She said simply, the baby's cries had quieted to a whimper almost as loud as the little girl in Janali's arms. Brienne looked the infant over carefully. "Do you need to-?"

"No." She shook her head. "They're just scared. They just need their mothers." She pressed her head into her daughter’s curls.

Brienne felt the tears sting her eyes as she laid the babe on her lap as she undid her armor, sipping it just far enough away from her body to fit the newborn inside.

"It's alright." She whispered, her fingers stroking the baby's tiny back. She whispered the words she'd whispered to Jaime not one day before. "I'm here. You're safe."

….

"If the bell rings the UnSullied will yield, but not the Dothraki." Tyrion told Arya urgently. "You should pull the Northern men back. We don't want them associated with this mess."

"They'll only listen to Jon." Arya shook her head wildly. "He's their king."

"He's all of ours King now." Tyrion sighed. "He's our only hope."

She walked towards him slowly, Bran's crow sat perched near his shoulder. Arya wished it could speak. She needed to talk to Sansa. Sansa would know what to say, how to push him. Instead she just stood there and waited for his eyes to move towards her.

"Tyrion says you should pull our men back."

"The unsullied will yield the Dothraki won't-." He repeated Tyrion's words.

"Our men Jon." She said sharply. "Remember!"

"The North Remembers!" He yelled back automatically.

"The North is all there is now. You are all there is now."

"Cersei-."

"Jaime Lannister has gone to kill her.” Her brother looked up at her, his mouth slipping open. “The Hound has gone to kill the Mountain and the Kingslayer will add Queenslayer to his title. It is sibling against sibling here Jon, do you stand with us or not!" He turned his face towards her with a look of stunned betrayal. "I know what it's like to be No One. It's a lonely place." Her arm shot out and grabbed at his wrist. "You are a leader. A King. Lead now, Jon. Don't let father's sacrifice, Robb's sacrifice- Rickon's, Theon's- be for nothing!" His face hardened and her eyebrows wrinkled tightly. "Winter has to end Jon." She pleaded. "Only you can end it."

He swallowed and she could see the fire reflected in his eyes before he gave a nod.

"Pull our men back!" He nodded to the Northern commander at his side, before he turned to Davos. "Get to Grey Worm, tell him that if the Dothraki don't yield at the bell they should take action to stop them."

"And what shall I tell them about their queen?" He asked calmly.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Not until this ends." He turned back to his sister. "And if he can't ring the bell? What then?"

"I don't know." She shook her head. "You're the King."

Jon couldn't help the sadistic laugh that bubbled out of him before he shook his head slowly as the Keep began to crumble above them.

…

"Light the left flank." Was the last thing Quburn said before the Hound killed him.

"You probably shouldn't." Sandor muttered to the young knight standing before him. The boy pulled his weapon and the other man turned to look at Jaime Lannister with an almost bored expression.

"I wouldn't do that." Jaime smiled. "It's not worth it." The kid looked conflicted. "Take off your armor and run before he kills you. There's no dishonor in not protecting a mad monarch."

He watched him hesitate before his sword clattered to the ground.

""No, you Dolt, take the sword, leave the armor." The boy grasped at the weapon while shaking off his breastplate and making a break for the door. "Tell your friends!" Jaime yelled.

"That was almost pathetically easy." Sandor snorted.

"It's what happens when you kill off all the good help." He gulped heavily as the building rocked. He reached for the paper the disgraced Maester had been holding and hissed at it before running into the hall and grabbing the arm of a passing servant.

"Ser Jaime." The man startled.

"Would you like to both live and become rich?" The man's eyebrow rose. "I need you to take this. Give it to the first Northerner you see. They'll be wearing furs even though it's hot as fuck out there. Tell them to take this to their king. Can you do that, or do I have to have Ser Sandor here kill you?"

"Give it to the furs." The man nodded.

"Tell them to find Tyrion Lannister, he'll pay you." Jaime pat the man on the back and turned back to the Hound.

"Where?" He looked around the map room.

"I'm guessing the throne room." Jaime said grimly, swallowing against the bile in his throat. “I-.”

"Let me." The Hound told him with an unexpected gentleness.

"It should be me."

"Ring the fucking bell, go find your fucking wife.." He told Jaime. 

And for the second time in his life, Jaime Lannister made a choice that wasn't his sister.

…..

Tyrion heard the bells as they marched to the Gate of Kings Landing, his eyes sinking shut for just a moment. They waited in the silence as the collective clink of swords hitting the ground filled the smoke filled air.

Jon gave him a wiry smile before nodding.

"You finally did something right you idiot." He whispered, pushing his thoughts towards Jaime’s mind with as much ferocity as he could."Now live."

"Lower your weapons!" Jon was yelling up the line. "Let them yield!"

Tyrion reached out to stop the small group of Northerners who remained with Jon.

"You are the Kingsguard for now." He told them firmly. "Let him lead, let him be seen, but let no harm come to him." They glanced at each other before one of them turned back to Tyrion with a resolute nod.


	15. Chapter 15

**Two Months Later- Tarth** .

"Still no name?" Tyrion asked, blinking up at her from the at the child in his arms.

"I try something new everyday." Brienne admitted, her small smile looking odd on her otherwise blank face. Her eyes were still fixed out the window. 

"Do you?" He laughed.

"I do." Her look turned wistful. "It seemed wrong. To do it without Jaime." Tyrion nodded towards the window sadly, before looking back down at the baby.

"These are Jaime's eyes." He whispered. Brienne nodded, her lips twitching into a smile. "And Tommen's rosy lips."

"I’m pleased you see that too." She sighed.

"Are you ready to hear it now?" Tyrion asked, his sad eyes meeting hers.

"I suppose if you're ready to tell it." She took a long slow breath steeling him with her icy blue gaze.

"When it came down to it, he let The Hound take down Cersei. He went for the bell." Tyrion smiled slightly at the idea that his brother was determined to save as much of the city as he could. "All those people are alive because of what he did."

"Was it worth it?"

"The south side of the city took the biggest hit from the Dragon fire, and the Green fire took a small portion in the center, but the rest of the city did not burn." Tyrion dropped his eyes to his brother’s child. "I guess to some that would be worth it."

He took a breath and let it out slowly.

"There are reports of him leaving the tower, but not from anyone we know personally. Jon had the Northerners look, what was left of the Golden Army got a nice purse from Casterly Rock for their efforts, but..nothing." She looked towards the doorway as if she expected him to come through. "I wouldn't have stopped looking until I found a body. You know that. I was determined to bring him home to you. Until we found this…" He moved forward offering the baby up to her before he pulled at the long leather case he'd brought with him. Brienne was prepared for him to pull out the damn hand. She'd been thinking about what she would say if he tried to give it to her. How she'd stop herself from telling him where he could cram the damn thing, but then when the case was set on the table before her and he folded back the velvet lining her breath caught in her throat and all of her fury left her.

Widow's Wail glinted in the light from the window.

"I know he'd never leave it behind." Tyrion whispered. "It was his link to you. It was the way you two carried the other with you when you were apart."

Brienne lifted her child to her shoulder with one hand while she reached towards Jaime's sword, her fingers sliding slowly up the blade, peaking the guard and landing softly on the hilt. Her hand molded around it and she could almost feel Jaime's fingers close around hers.

"Thank you." She whispered softly, letting the tears slip over her cheeks. "For knowing what this means to us."

"Of course." He soothed.

"This is just as good as bringing a body home to us." Her voice broke and she carefully slid the sword to her lap, pressing a kiss against her infant's temple. "Better."

"Someday you can teach the next generation of Lannisters to use them?" He raised an eyebrow. She nodded, inhaling and exhaling in deeply.

"How is the King?"

"The work is slow, but it is continuing." Tyrion nodded. "He needs you back at his side."

"I told him by the coronation, I'll return to service. She nodded. "And from what she writes me Sansa feels she'll be able to head south by then."

"As long as everything goes as planned." He nodded, leaning again to look at the baby. "If the child born is healthy and she has recovered enough for a sail around Westeros, Uncle Tyrion will bring your cousin for a visit."

"Every summer." Brienne whispered Jaime's vision. "Please say you'll travel south to Tarth. When they're older they'll learn to swim in the sapphire water and sleep out under the stars."

"Jaime and I did that." He choked. "As boys, we'd sleep out under the stars and he'd make up stories about them. Always knights and swords and horses." Tyrion watched his brother's widow swallow back her sorrow. He glanced up as his man appeared at the door.

"It's time, My Lord." His attendant told him softly. Brienne wanted to hug him, but she couldn't seem to let go of the Valyrian steel settled against her knees. He leaned over it and she kissed his cheek.

"Take care, Good Sister. " He said softly as he made his way out of the room and down the steps of Evenfall to the shore where the row boat to his ship waited.

He did not see see his brother's wife bring the pommel of the sword to her lips and press a kiss to it, nor did he take the time to consider the irony of her widow's wail as it drifted through the window into the wind that would finally guide him home to his wife.

…

**15 years later- Kings Landing** .

"I suppose we've gotten it all squared away then?" The Lord Commander of the Kings Gaurd lifted her head towards the irritated voice of the Hand of the King and gave her a droll look.

"We have." She ran her hand across the pages of the White Book she knew by heart with such love Arya couldn't help but sigh. There was something about Brienne's heart sickness that had always made a part of Arya wish that she had become the Lady of Storm's End.

"And your replacement is well versed?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Temporary replacement!" Brienne corrected sharply, raising her eyebrow right back. "And yes. He is well versed."

"Not as well versed as you." Arya complained.

"I promise you this will be the last time." Brienne dropped a little bit of her official persona and gave Arya a pained sigh.

"I find the odds of that doubtful."

"Think what ever you want." Brienne shrugged.

"So." Arya smirked. "Kings Landing will see you next spring?"

"Yes. And I will see Arya Stark in two weeks, correct?"

"You will." Arya flashed her a real smile, and Brienne nodded making her way out into the court yard, pausing to watch the squires spar below her. The summer sun beating down against her gold cloak.

She smiled at the sounds of sparing swords clipped in her ears.

"Lord Commander." Came a warm voice from behind her.

"Your Grace." Jon joined her at the railing.

"She really is coming along." He said proudly.

"She is a Lannister." Brienne raised an eyebrow at him playfully. "It's in her blood."

"She comes by it naturally," The King told her with raised eyebrows. "From wherever it may come." Brienne snickered, but relented with a nod. "You have along trip ahead of you." He reminded her.

"I do, Your Grace."

"Safe travels, Ser Brienne."

"Thank you, Your Grace. " She watched him look back at the little swords woman before walking on. "Lyanna!"

The young girl stilled her sword and pulled off her helmet, her pretty hair swinging loose.

"It's time to go."

…..

"Welcome home M' Lady." Brienne did her best not bristle as the residents of Casterly Rock greeted her as she and Lyanna arrived at the gate. Behind her, the girl tried not to snicker as she looked up for permission to depart. Brienne nodded at her and she ran off.

"Thank you Hammond." She said sweetly, as she pulled her shoulders up and handed him the reins of the horse. She continued to give sweet soft lady like smiles as she made her way to the main courtyard past the well and into one of the red capped towers.

Once inside she pulled her belt off and unsheathed Oathkeeper, setting it on the rest next to Widows Wail, pausing to touch the other blade. She tugged at her boots and shook off her travel armor and let it drop to the floor before she looked out the window at the Sunset Sea.

"Well. Well. Well." Came the thick melodic voice from behind her. She felt the tension of the trip ease off of her with just those words in his predictably teasing tone. "If it isn't the brave Lord Commander of the Kings Guard, slinking back home to the Rock after finding herself  _ once again _ in the family way."

He moved his arms around her and she slid her own hands towards them as he kissed her neck.

"This is the last time, Jaime." She told him honestly, as his left palm curved around the small rise in her abdomen.

"You say that every time." He nuzzled his chin with his nose.

"I mean it every time." She reminded him sharply.

"I know you do." He chuckled lightly. "Your hair's gotten so long." He pressed his face into it.

"It's only been six weeks since you've left Kings Landing how much longer could it be?" She breathed. "It's just dirty from three days of rowing and riding."

"Please tell me you let Lyanna do most of the rowing."

"Mostly." She dropped more of her weight back against him before letting her head lull to the side. She loved the way his eyes still softened when they met hers.

"Liar." He pressed his mouth to hers and she kissed him with more hunger than he'd expected before pulling back and looking at him.

"You have your boots on." She noted, taking in their even height.

"I knew you were coming." He grinned.

"I missed you." She turned in his arms and kissed him again before pressing her face into his neck with a sigh.

"I've only been gone six weeks." He teased, before stroking her face with his thumb. "You're Just tired from all the riding and rowing Lyanna did." She hummed against him. "You should rest."

"I haven't seen my children." She whined, but he was already pulling her back from the window towards the bed. "Jaime."

"My brother and his unruly brood of fur covered, semi wildlings will be arriving tomorrow to collect their daughter; and the Lady Lannister of Winterfell will be after me like a direwolf if you don't look well cared for." He settled her on the bed, pulling back the blankets.

"The boys are out on the rock doing unmentionable dangerous things under the watchful eye of Ser Podrick and their much smarter cousin Lyanna." He went to basin and wet a wash cloth before returning to her side. She watched him quietly as he wiped it over her face and neck before undoing the strings of her top layer and kissing her collarbone.

"We'll see them at dinner and you can put them to bed with scary stories of the Night King and the undead." She reached her hand up and drew her thumb across his face. "And Ren will ask to see your scar because he always does, the gory little bastard. And you will show him and Tom will look away because he's very sensitive and Ty will roll his eyes because he's the oldest, he's sick of this story and he's  _ your _ son." Her lips flickered and he beamed at her. "I'm not sure young Jon has heard the story since he's been old enough to understand."

"Probably not." She said softly.

"But right now." He sat down on the bed beside her and slipped off his boots with a comfortable ease that the years had given him. "You're tired." He touched her temple with his lips. "And your back is sore. I can tell by the way you're holding your shoulders." She sighed as he pressed her towards the mattress. "And we have yet  _ another _ child to think of." He skimmed her waist with his right arm and she slid her hand up it as he joined her. "I haven't held you in my arms in six weeks and I would very much like to."

She breathed a heavy sigh as he pulled them together. Her leg wrapped over his hip, forcing him closer.

"Where did I even find you?" She breathed airily, watching the edges of his lips quirk up as he tilted his chin up to kiss her forehead.

"They say the best husbands are found bound, dirty and foul mouthed on dungeon floors." He teased. She kissed him in agreement.

"I did miss you." She told him her eyes slipping shut.

"I'm glad you’re home." He murmured against her hair. Brienne wasn’t sure when Casterly and it’s rocky shores had become her home, but as she listened to the sound of the waves hitting the cliff side, she was glad that it was. 


End file.
